When Pirate and Pirate Meet
by The Giant Daifuku
Summary: When a mishap with nethicite and a Gate Crystal sends Balthier plunging into Port Royal, naturally he would get tangled in a plot involving certain undead pirates... will the sky pirate prevail and ever return home? Set during Curse of the Black Pearl.
1. Not in Ivalice Anymore

I do believe that this is the first Final Fantasy XII, Pirates of the Caribbean crossover to be posted on fanfiction. True or not, I am enjoying myself writing this because I am a rabid Balthier fan, and I just happened to watch Pirates over the weekend. And then it hit me…

So. Enjoy; it may be a little wacky, so bear with me. Reviews will be extremely helpful since I feel I am treading paths never walked before.

TGD

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or Final Fantasy XII. They are the property of Disney and Square Enix.

* * *

"Wait! Balthier! You're leaving already? But you just got to Rabanastre!" Vaan was running after him. Nostalgically, Balthier recalled the times when they were traipsing about Ivalice as a (almost) family, together with Ashe, Basch, Penelo, and his dearest partner, Fran. Vaan had tailed him like this then, too. Just behind them, Penelo herself was jogging to keep up. He sighed, and would have rubbed his temples had his arms not been full of supplies for the _Strahl_.

"Well now, Vaan, I can't stay, first of all because darling Fran is waiting for me and my supplies in the Bhujerban Aerodrome, and second of all— she wants them now." he snapped.

"Why couldn't you have gotten the repair parts in Bhujerba then? You must have wanted to visit us." Penelo said slyly.

"Being on an isolated sky city has its detriments when you are out of a certain, _instrumental _part of your ship!" Balthier retorted. "And I just _happened _to run into Vaan when I came to buy the fore mentioned instrumental part." The orange Gate Crystal was coming into view now; he'd only have to touch it with a Teleport Stone and off he'd be to Bhujerba, leaving the nosy brats behind. He set his packages down to rummage through his side pouch, searching for the stone that would send him back to his ship. Penelo gave a fake teary sigh.

"Then, good bye for now! See you soon!" she jumped forward to give him a hug, and Balthier took a step backward to dodge her. He was not one for arbitrary and unnecessary shows of affection when it came to girls _much_ younger than he was, and Penelo hugging him in the middle of Rabanastre was _extremely_ low on his priority list. As he moved, he saw the small blue "crystal" of manufacted nethicite hanging from Penelo's neck; a gift from Larsa. Vaan spotted it too.

"Penelo! You know better than to wear that thing around Gate Crystals!" Vaan shouted, as suddenly Mist condensed around them. Balthier wore a look of utter horror as, when he had taken a step back, his hand brushed against the now glowing Gate Crystal. He only saw a blinding flash and heard Vaan calling his name, before he was whisked (in his own bitter words) to you-know-not-where.

* * *

Wherever he'd ended up, Balthier made a splash landing in the middle of a harbor, and, coughing and spluttering on the salty water, managed to swim to the closest dock. He hauled himself out of the drink, shaking his head to rid the water from his face and wringing his cuffs out. A man wearing a plain grey overcoat and brown leather tricorne approached him, concern written in every wrinkle of his aged face.

"Are you quite alright?" the dock manager looked him up and down, taking in his intricate gold embroidered vest, skin tight leather trousers, shin guards, and steel shoes, all, of course, dripping water. Balthier gave him a lopsided grin when the man's gaze lingered on his colorful rings and bracelets. The poor manager didn't know what to think; either the man who had mysteriously appeared in the middle of Port Royal's harbor was a slightly eccentric member of the nobility, or a very well dressed scoundrel. It could have gone either way; while a little short on aristocrats, the port was certainly filled with scoundrels where no one was looking.

"Ah, yes, thank you." Balthier replied. "Just a little damp." His drawl suggested aristocracy. The dock manager nodded, but continued to stare. Balthier frowned at the attention.

"I know I'm attractive, my good man, but could you please stop gazing at me?" he asked. The dock manager flushed.

"How dare you insinuate…!" he sputtered. Perhaps the man was a scoundrel after all.

"Forgive me, I could not resist." Balthier smirked. "Now, I could use a little help. Where am I?"

The dock manager straightened. "Welcome to Port Royal, one of the most important cities you will find in the Caribbean, governed by Lord Weatherby Swann."

The sky pirate could feel a headache coming on. Port Royal? Caribbean? Weatherby Swann? Honestly, who wanted a name like _Weatherby_? Then again, _Ffamran_ wasn't much better. One thing was for certain. As far as he knew, he was _not_ in Ivalice anymore.

"Thank you," he murmured vaguely, walking toward the town. Perhaps there was a tavern he could go to in order to think on his troubles, accompanied by a nice mug of ale. Then it hit him that he probably did not have any money to pay for the mentioned mug of ale, if that was what taverns served here at all.

How would he ever get home? What would Fran think? What misadventure had he gotten himself into now? It was all so frustrating. Balthier patted himself down to make sure he still had most of his possessions in his… possession. Lohengrin in its black scabbard was still strapped to his hip (it wasn't _the best_ sword, he would have preferred Deathbringer to be swinging from his hip) and Danjuro, tucked away in its plain brown sheathe, was also present. He gave a sigh of relief that he'd not lost them. Lohengrin could be replaced easily; it was Danjuro that would have broken his heart. Self assessment complete, Balthier sat down on a barrel in the sun to dry out and observe the populace of this _Port Royal_. They dressed like shabby Archadians, in fact, their fashions were very similar. Which meant… yes, there they were! Coin pouches and wallets dangled from their belts, jangling with money. Here was a game that Balthier could play very well. He would only need a little money to get started here, and everybody knew that it made the world go round.

Balthier stood, stretching. He was dry enough now that he wasn't uncomfortable, and this Caribbean weather (or what he'd experienced so far) not so bad. Now, off to work… there was a rather well suited man coming down the alley, engrossed in a book. Balthier began to walk up the alley, toward him. Just as they were about to pass each other, the pirate pretended to trip on an upended cobblestone, stumbling forward and knocking into the man with his shoulder as he fell. Using his shoulder as a shield from his victim's eyes, Balthier drew a tiny knife from its sheath on his leg, cut the string attaching the man's wallet to his belt, which dropped the purse into the pirate's belt pouch, and returned the knife to its place in one smooth stroke.

"Steady on!" the man who he'd just pick pocketed grabbed the offending shoulder and pushed Balthier away.

"Ah, I am _so _sorry, sir! I just tripped, you see…" he made a show of apologizing profusely, gesturing to the stone that had caused him to "trip".

"Watch where you're going!" the man said angrily, storming away. Balthier dusted himself off, a faint smile dancing on his face. Now then, what was the money like in this new place?

He ducked away from the main thoroughfare and dumped the meager contents of the pouch into his palm. There were a few dull silver coins which he identified as "shillings", and two different sizes of copper colored coins, the smaller being farthings and the larger being pennies. Balthier frowned. Gil was much easier to understand. As he walked back to the waterfront, he began creating a mental map of the place. It was always good to know your surroundings; one never knew when an escape was in order. At the mouth of the harbor, three grisly skeletons hung from nooses. They must have been pirates. Balthier was all too familiar with the ways that brigands were punished, and a quick drop and a sudden stop was a favored method of execution.

From the castle upon the hill, a loud fanfare began to play, drums rolling and flutes tootling a patriotic tune. From the gossip, he picked up that a certain James Norrington, Captain in the British Imperial Fleet, was being promoted to Commodore today, hence the increased amount of soldiers patrolling the streets to maintain order. Sitting back on his barrel again, Balthier turned his eye to the various boats anchored in the harbor. There were all manners of them, but they had nothing on some of the ships he'd seen in Balfonheim. A few things caught his attention.

There was a _mast_ tied up at the dock. Balthier snorted, and continued looking. On a smaller ship flying the Imperial colors of the world he was in now, there was a small drama unfolding as two soldiers in bright red confronted a ragtag man bedecked in beads, dreadlocks, and a faded red bandana, muskets cocked. How Balthier wanted a hold of a musket. It made his fingers itch with the want to hold a gun again. Why he'd thought to bring _Lohengrin_ of all weapons to Rabanastre versus Fomalhaut, he'd never know. At least he knew he could do some significant damage with Danjuro.

He wandered leisurely down to the dock where the confrontation was taking place. Fran always said his curiosity would be the end of him, but he wanted _so badly_ to see how this story played out! Balthier silently meandered to the pier in time to hear the soldiers say in wavering voices,

"What's your business in Port Royal, _Mister Smith_?" The first soldier, a rather plump man said.

"And no lies!" the thinner of the pair supplied.

"Oh alright, you've caught me. I'm here to commandeer a ship, sail to Tortuga, steal, pillage, and otherwise pilfer my weaselly black guts out, savvy?" was the dramatically delivered reply. Balthier smiled. Perfect delivery.

"I said no lies!" the thin soldier shouted. His companion blinked.

"I think he's telling the truth."

"If that were the truth, then he wouldn't have told us."

Balthier seated himself on a crate this time, leaning back in the shade of the over hanging loading dock to enjoy the show. The pirate (for indeed, that is what the bandana wearing man happened to be) had now just started engaging the two marines in idle conversation. Above, at the fortress, the official sounding music had stopped playing, and Balthier had begun to grow bored of the act in front of him. Just as he was thinking he should move on and start thinking of a solution to his problem (namely, how to get back to Ivalice), he was distracted by the sight of a girl falling from the fortress battlements. He leaped to his feet, and the three men were distracted by the splash as the girl hit the water.

"What was that?" the thin soldier asked his partner. They were interrupted as Balthier climbed aboard the ship for the best optimal diving spot.

"Pardon my intrusion," Balthier said, dumping his pouches and weapons into the arms of the two soldiers and handing his vest to the pirate who'd been narrating a story when the girl fell into the sea.

"Hey! This is a private ship, property of the Royal Navy! You aren't supposed to be here! What are you doing?" the fat soldier protested loudly.

"Oh? Then what is he doing here? I thought this was a private ship?" Balthier smirked, gesturing to the pirate. Both soldiers blushed. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a damsel in distress to rescue." With that, the sky pirate dove overboard and into the water.

* * *

A pulse rippled through the water. Balthier winced slightly, careful not to release his held breath, at the feeling as it passed through his body. Above water, the two guards, Murtogg (the thin man) and Mullroy (the thick man), shared a look.

"Did you see that?" Murtogg asked his friend, who gave him a puzzled look. A harsh wind began to blow, and the pirate, who had been examining Balthier's vest (and wondering how much it would sell for) looked up at the flag as he realized the wind had changed direction, a dark frown on his face.

Balthier's head broke the surface of the water. The girl he'd rescued was wearing a very frilly dress that was not making swimming any easier. Luckily, the dock wasn't far off, and he heaved the girl's head above the water, handing her to the two soldiers waiting for him, and clambered up after her.

"She's not breathing!" Murtogg shouted with a panicked air.

"Move," the pirate shoved the vest back into its owner's hands and drew his knife. Ripping open the girl's dress to reveal a very stiff corset underneath, he slit the strings holding it shut and tore it off her, handing it to Mullroy. Immediately, she gasped, coughing a good amount of sea water onto the pier.

"I wouldn't have thought of that…" Murtogg said somewhat dejectedly. The pirate glanced back at his "companions."

"Obviously, you've never been to Singapore," he said, then grinned roguishly at Balthier, who had finished tightening the straps on his vest, and added "or worn a corset."

"I have no idea to what you refer." Balthier said crossly, realizing that the pirate was alluding to his own restraining wear. He ran a hand through his bronze colored hair, tousling it to make the water come out. This was definitely going to be a trying play if this pirate was going to be a supporting character. Luckily, the other pirate was too busy to reply, and instead fingered a golden medallion worn around the girl's neck, the dark frown returning.

"Where did you get that…" he murmured.

They were interrupted as footsteps rattled off of the wooden planks. An entire squadron of soldiers surrounded them; a man dressed in officious blue get up that Balthier assumed was the recently promoted Commodore Norrington drew a sword held it near the pirate's neck threateningly, forcing him to stop his inspection of the medallion and stand, while the rest of the soldiers trained their muskets on Balthier. Close behind Norrington was the man from whom Balthier had cut his purse. The man rushed forward, with a little cry of "Elizabeth!" That must have been the girl's name. When he laid eyes on Balthier and the pirate, he gave an infuriated shout.

"That's the man who stole my wallet!" he said, once he was capable of speaking. Balthier winced.

"Ah, it would seem I have been caught." the sky pirate groaned. Then the Governor spotted Murtogg holding Elizabeth's corset. The soldier hurriedly dropped the article, pointing at the bandana wearing pirate.

"Shoot them." the Governor said tersely. The sound of cocking guns filled the air. Balthier felt cold. _Is this the fate of the leading man, to be shot down in some obscure corner with none to know of my fate?_ He thought. Luckily, salvation appeared in the form of Elizabeth's pleas.

"Father!" she cried, as he bodily wrapped her in his blue coat, but switched her attention to the Commodore. "Do you intend to kill my rescuers? Even if he _did_ steal your wallet—" her glanced flicked to Balthier, then to the other pirate— "and he put my honor in a compromising situation?" Norrington looked at her disbelievingly, before grudgingly nodding to his squad, who put their guns up. He sheathed his sword.

"Now… I believe thanks are in order?" he held his hand out to the bandana wearing pirate, who suspiciously took the proffered hand. He winced when the Commodore viciously yanked his sleeve up, revealing a "P" branded into his arm. Pushing the sleeve up further, a blue tattoo of a bird flying over the sea was exposed.

"A brush with the East India trading company and… Jack Sparrow?" he asked, a smug air entering his voice. Jack Sparrow grimaced.

"Please, it's Captain Jack Sparrow." Captain? Balthier perked up. This supporting character's role may have just been elevated a little bit.

"Well, well, well… Keep your guns on them, men! He's a pirate!" Norrington barked, and the guns were leveled at them once again.

"These are his, sir!" Mullroy nodded toward Balthier, handing over the man's pouches, sword, and dagger. Murtogg confiscated Jack's belongings as well. Norrington eyed the bejeweled hilts of Danjuro and Lohengrin, raising an eyebrow as he saw the silvery white blades with their rune engravings.

"It seems you have an eye for expensive trinkets, pirate. How much of this is stolen?" he asked. Balthier offered him a smirk as Gillette, Norrington's shadow, snapped some archaic chains onto his wrists.

"It's all mine, actually." he replied. It wasn't actually stealing if it was stolen from a fiend or found in a chest, was it? Norrington snorted.

"From your voice, no one would ever suspect you were a pirate, would they." he sneered.

"I prefer it that way. It makes things easier." Balthier returned. Gillette put handcuffs on Sparrow next, and Norrington did his inspection of the pirate's affects.

"Neither additional shot nor powder… a compass that doesn't point north…" he put the said items back on the pile and drew Sparrow's dagger. "Not quite as flashy as that man's… but I almost expected it to be wood." he slammed it back into its sheath with a snap.

"Take them to the cells!" Norrington ordered. "The hanging will be arranged, mark my words." As they were led away, Elizabeth fled after them.

"Please, I must protest—" she cried, but the Commodore cut her off.

"These men have led lives of blackness and evil," he began, but Balthier objected.

"I am only guilty of a cutpurse, Commodore. Hardly enough to call an entire life of blackness and evil." he called. _I saved Ivalice, for goodness sake!_ he thought.

"It is enough to condemn you, thief!" Norrington retorted. Elizabeth scrambled around him, trying to stand between the Commodore and the pirates (though it seemed they believed that Sparrow was the only pirate there).

"Commodore…" she whispered. "Please…" Behind her, a grin broke out across Sparrow's face.

"Finally!" he whispered, and swung his chains around Elizabeth's neck. She gasped, the soldiers started forward, Balthier raised an eyebrow, and Norrington and the Governor gave a collective "No!"

"Don't shoot! Elizabeth!" the Governor cried.

"Commodore, my affects, please! And don't forget my hat." Sparrow hissed menacingly. When the man hesitated, Jack pulled Elizabeth closer, and she gave a little shriek.

"Where are his belongings? Hurry, give it over!" the Governor shouted. Elizabeth, tears sliding down her face, took them from Mullroy.

"And now…" Sparrow turned her around to face him, smiling and placing his gun against her temple.

"You're contemptible." she snarled, pulling his buckles tight with undue force and smashing his tricorne atop his head.

"I know." he murmured, and then turned her back to face his audience, resting his head smugly on her shoulder. The Governor looked as if he were about to explode.

"Now, let this be remembered as the day that you almost caught… _Captain_ Jack Sparrow." he shouted, backing under the overhanging pier then pushing Elizabeth toward the soldiers. Balthier simply sidestepped her as she was caught in the arms of the Commodore and the Governor before they grabbed him as well, clutching his arms with a death grip. In the mean time, Sparrow had fled, grabbing a rope and kicking a pulley that sent him rocketing into the air. At the same time, a cannon crashed through the pier in front of them, several soldiers screaming as they fell into the hole. Balthier had to admit he was a little impressed. Sparrow now dangled above them, going in circles around a loading crane and screaming.

"Open fire!" Norrington howled, all semblances of dignity lost.

"Hey! Watch it!" Sparrow shouted back down as bullets whined around him, before using his momentum to swing to another crane and loop his shackles about another rope and zip lining to freedom. The man had tremendous luck— he managed to cross a stone bridge while the soldiers were shooting at him without a scratch.

Norrington was breathing hard, looking as if he were ready to have a Commodore sized temper tantrum. "Take him away." he jerked a hand toward Balthier. "The rest of you, after Sparrow."

After a rush toward the local gaol, Balthier found himself roughly shoved into a small cell with a straw covered floor, and the door clanged shut behind him. He watched morosely as his possessions were hung on a long nail near the gaol's entrance, and then had his shackles removed by the guard, who reached through the bars to remove them. For a moment, Balthier considered smashing the guard's head against the door, rendering him unconscious, then affecting his escape, but decided against it. The latticework of the bars would prevent him from reaching the guards head fast enough to enact his plan. So he let the guard remove the chains, and rubbing his wrists absently, retired to a corner to wallow in self pity.

"Here's a pretty, pretty pickle." he murmured to himself. He wasn't trapped per se; when the guard had left for the changing of the watch, Balthier had made an examination of the lock. It was a very archaic pin-and-barrel kind, very easy to pick. He probably could have done it with a few nails if he'd had them. "Awfully lax security, hm?" he murmured, reclining deeper into the corner. "How am I ever going to go back?"

* * *

So yeah. Please. Please. PLEASE review.


	2. Jail Break

I think this is the longest chapter I have ever written: it's a grand total of about six pages, a little over that. I love writing this story…

Thanks to **ElTangoDeRoxanne** for their lovely review, it made me happy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XII or Pirates of the Caribbean.

* * *

Balthier's solitude did not last long— perhaps an hour later, the guards had dragged in the other pirate, Sparrow, and tossed him into the cell.

"Now you have company," the guard sneered, slamming the door shut again. A quick check revealed that Sparrow was unconscious, but otherwise unharmed. Balthier nudged him with his foot a few times, before retreating back to his corner. The sun had fallen below the horizon by the time that Sparrow awoke, groaning and clutching the back of his head.

"A curse on that blacksmith!" he moaned, shaking his head. "I feel like I've got a hangover…"

Balthier readied a cure spell, slightly surprised when he felt the familiar pulse of Mist flowing through his body. He hadn't really expected to be able to use Magick here, in a new land, but now that he could, he bore an unbelievable advantage over whatever else this world could throw at him. He spread a hand toward the direction where Sparrow sat nursing his head, and swept it back to complete the spell. The glittering jet of white light danced through the air, sinking into the other pirate's body. Sparrow jumped with surprise.

"What was that? What did you… hey! My headache's gone!" the pirate said gleefully, looking at Balthier. "But really, what was that?"

"A handy little spell I know called 'cure'." Balthier explained, looking at his hands somewhat quizzically. "To be honest, I didn't expect it to take in this world."

"Now you're talking crazy, mate. What do you mean, in this world?" Sparrow asked.

"Must you ask so many questions, Sparrow?" Balthier murmured, getting up to pace the narrow space in the cell.

"Please, it's Jack. Or Captain. And my curiosity has been piqued."

"Very well, Jack. But you would think me bloody insane if I told my tale. You wouldn't believe me." Balthier turned to face him, his normally laughing golden-brown eyes serious.

"Oh, believe me; you'd think my tale equally as strange, should you hear it. Come, we got all night in this dump!" Jack said cajolingly. The sky pirate sighed.

"Very well…" he gave a condensed version of the events that led up to his eventual splash entrance to Port Royal, and the thieving of the Governor.

"Tough luck. Interesting… sky pirates? Pirates who fly? You can swim like a fish; I've yet to see you fly like a bird, _Captain_ Balthier. But I believe your little bit about the stone." Jack commented, taking the story in stride. "Though it would have been hard if I hadn't seen you do your bit of magic with my own eyes."

"I thought you would call me mad." Balthier said, somewhat disappointed by how easily the sea pirate took his story.

"I was mutinied upon my voyage in search for treasure and trinkets, left for dead on an island by my first mate, and somehow, I show up here! Crazy, isn't it?" Jack replied. "But not unheard of."

They were interrupted by a low whistle from the neighboring cell.

"Oh, shut it!" Balthier cried, throwing his arms up in exasperation. The men next door used a large bone to clang against their bars in an attempt to attract the attention of their canine guard, who dangled the keys from its mouth.

"Excuse us if we haven't given up yet!" one of the men shouted at him, turning back to the dog. "See this? Here's a nice juicy bone… it's marrow bone, it is… come on doggy! Nice doggy!" the men waved the bone at the dog, who surveyed them with an air of mangy aloofness.

"They're trying to escape by baiting the dog… clever, but no matter how many times you try, you'll not get that dog to move." Jack said, moving so that he could look through the small, barred window connecting their cells. He glanced at Balthier, who was looking through a different window, one overlooking the bay.

"Why didn't you try to escape, Balthier?" he asked conversationally. It was clear the other man hadn't been paying attention; he jumped at the mention of his name.

"Pardon?"

"When I made my little jaunt with the dock cranes and the cannon, you could have tried to make a break for it, too. Now you're locked up with no hope of getting back to where-have-you with the gallows waiting."

"It's not like I could have gotten far," Balthier shrugged. "I'm new here, remember? What good would it have been for me to be lost in this world with the entire garrison out for me?"

"You might have lived longer."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. If I'd stayed in Ivalice, perhaps I would have arrived back in Bhujerba to find a bounty hunter in front of my ship with a gun to my dear Fran's head. He'd be badly injured of course. Fran wouldn't go down without a fight." Balthier stopped when he realized he was rambling.

"Ah… you love her don't you?" Jack gave a barking laugh. Balthier frowned.

"Of course I do, she's my leading lady! The leading man always loves his leading lady."

Suddenly, the dog outside whined, ducking under a wooden bench. Balthier heard a muffled _boom_. Jack rushed to the outside window, straining to see through the thick fog that had mysteriously rolled in.

"I would know those guns anywhere… it's the _Pearl_." he whispered. He leaped away from the window. "Get down!"

The words had hardly left his mustached lips when a deafening roar filled the gaol. Balthier dove for the farthest corner from the wall, arm over his head to protect it from possible falling debris. When the dust cleared, a gaping hole had been blown in the wall— in the other cell. The curs inside where laughing as they climbed out.

"Sorry mate— you've no manner of luck at all!" he jeered, joining his friends outside. Jack rested his head against the cold metal dolefully as cannon fire continued to roar around them and screams rent the air.

"That's it; we're getting out of here. Balthy! Use some kind of spell and bust us out of here!" Jack shouted, climbing down his perch.

"It's _Balthier_," said sky pirate snarled. "And do you have a plan for after we escape?"

"We'll get aboard me bloody ship, kill Barbossa, and be rid of this place. And get you back to Invalid or wherever you come from." Jack added hastily, seeing Balthier's dark look.

"_Ivalice!_" he gritted, raising his arm and preparing Aero, hoping that the wind generated by the minor spell would blast down the door. He quickly stopped when a gunshot echoed through the building and a dead soldier tumbled down the stairs, hastily dropping his hand to his side. Jack moved to the front of the cell, curious as to the commotion. Balthier remained in the back, panting slightly as he felt the drain from the failed spell taking effect.

Two pirates in ragged clothing came running down the stairs.

"This ain't the armory, Koehler!" One of them shouted. The other, a dark skinned man with dreadlocks, laughed instead, sheathing his bloody sword.

"No, it isn't." Koehler drifted toward the only occupied cell. "But look what we have here, Twigg. Jack Sparrow." he spat toward the moonlit ground at Jack's feet. The pirate didn't flinch.

"Who's that in there?" Twigg snapped, jerking his chin toward Balthier, who tensed.

"Nobody important," Jack replied. "Barely met him today when I got tossed in here with him."

Koehler smirked. "Then you probably won't mind then, will ye, Jack?" he drew his pistol and fired. Balthier ducked, and the bullet meant for his head whizzed straight through his arm instead, ripping through cloth and flesh to imbed itself in the stone wall. The sky pirate did not cry out, merely grunting and clutching his injured appendage toward his body with his good hand. Koehler blinked in surprise.

"Meant to kill him, but at least he won't be interruptin' us now." he said, tucking the gun back into his belt. Twigg looked Jack over.

"Your fortune's not improved much." he taunted, gesturing to the cell.

"Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen. I assure you that there are places reserved in hell for traitors and mutineers." Jack spat. Something changed in Koehler's face. With a snarl, he reached through the bars and gripped at Jack's throat.

The pirate was shocked at the sight of the bony arm and the strength of the creaking joints around his neck. "There really is a curse…" Jack breathed.

"You know nothing of hell." Koehler growled, releasing his victim and storming from the gaol.

"Interesting…" Jack held the marrowbone in before his eyes. "Very interesting." he then remembered his injured fellow pirate in the back of his cell. As soon as the cursed crewmembers had left, Balthier had clumsily removed his doublet and pulled off his shirt to better examine the wound.

"Lucky," he hissed through clenched teeth. "The bullet went straight through and missed the bone." Jack gave him a forced smile, ripping a strip of cloth from his own shirt to bind the wound. He nodded toward the discarded bone lying on the floor.

"Well, if it did, we'd at least have a replacement." he joked, eliciting a weak laugh from Balthier.

"As if it would fit. Don't worry about the cloth, just a moment…" Balthier began to gather the Mist about him again, channeling the white magic toward the bullet hole in his arm. Fran had said he was a good healer— time to put it to the test.

The blood gave a final spurt before the flow was stemmed, and with a slight hissing noise, skin began to flow over the site of the hole. Within moments, the gash had been sealed with barely a scar to show it had been there. Balthier flexed his fingers and his arm.

"It's a little sore, but I'll live." he proclaimed, pulling his shirt back on and replacing his vest around his body. Jack gave him a contemplative look.

"I know men who've lost arms from injuries like that and have been maimed for life. Magick seems a useful thing." he said softly.

"I will most likely be the only person you ever meet who can do this. Don't get injured if you can avoid it, Jack. I can't keep doing Magicks forever. Eventually, I'll run out of energy." Balthier warned. "I need to rest before we escape." he slumped to one side, resting his head against the wall. "Cure only does so much for a man…"

"Forget escape." Jack said bitterly. "The _Black Pearl_ is gone." _And my hopes with it._

"Sorry." Balthier said drowsily, closing his eyes. "You'll get another chance." Jack glared at him, but could do nothing as the other pirate drifted to sleep. The sun rose, this time shining on the opposite scene from when it sank last night; this time Balthier was out cold, and Jack was the one wallowing in self pity.

* * *

"Come on… bugger it all…" Jack was trying to use a rude lock pick made from a splintery bone to open the cell door.

"It won't work." Balthier said lightly, resting with his feet propped on the stone bench.

"Let's see you try!" Jack shouted back, rattling the bone and emitting a stream of curses when it snapped. Balthier sauntered up to the door, brushing straw from his pants and back, and selected two long slivers of bone from the pile on the floor. He slid the first into the lock, then the second, and began applying the intricate art of lock picking he was famous for.

"Almost there…" he jiggled the bones a bit. The lock was just about to click when footsteps thundered down the stairs. Balthier, not taking a chance, wrenched the two slivers from the lock, cursed almost as darkly as Jack had when they shattered, and scrambled back to his spot. Jack reclined back onto the floor as if resting. A young man with scraggly, but neat brown hair tied in a curling pony-tail sprinted in, white skin glistening with sweat. Balthier assessed him with a thief's eye as he stayed in the shadows.

Soot smeared on his hands and the axe tucked in his belt suggested a craftsman of some sort, a blacksmith perhaps. He had a few burns and welts on his face, most likely the results of the pirate raid the night before, but was otherwise mostly unharmed. The man was not very observant, though; he had eyes only for Jack Sparrow, and failed to see the second pirate hidden in the shade.

"You, Sparrow." he shouted gruffly when he'd regained his breath. Jack lifted his head off the floor negligently to regard his interrogator. "You are familiar with the _Black Pearl_, are you not?"

Jack lay his head back down. "I've heard of it." he muttered, making himself more comfortable against the stony floor.

"You must know where it moors, then."

"_Where does it moor_? Were you born yesterday, whelp? Haven't you heard the stories?" Jack cried, lifting his head up again to glare at the man. The "interrogator" narrowed his eyes in response.

"I suppose you haven't." Jack sighed heavily, closing his eyes. Balthier rolled his eyes. Here it came; he'd heard the story earlier.

"_Captain"_— Balthier noticed how bitterly Sparrow always said Captain— "Barbossa and his crew of miserable wretches sail from the mythical Isla de Muerta, an island that cannot be found _unless_ you already know where it is." Jack gave a cheery smile to accompany his speech.

"The ship is real, Sparrow. Therefore if they truly do sail from Isla de Muerta, it must also be real. You know where it is?" the man moved closer to the bars.

"Why are you so persistent? What do you _want_, boy?"

"You're a pirate!" the man burst out. "You know other pirates!"

Jack treated him to a knowing smile. The young man was forced avert his eyes from the pirate lying in front of him.

"They've taken Elizabeth away." he said at last.

"Ah, that delightful wee lass! It seems you _have_ found yourself a girl." Jack exclaimed. Balthier frowned. Apparently, the man and Jack had met earlier, perhaps between the time they were arrested and Jack actually arrived in prison. At any rate, Balthier remembered Elizabeth; she'd pled for their freedom to no avail, and Jack had ended up using her as a hostage in his escape.

"If you're intending to brave all dangers and go to her rescue to win said lady's heart, you can leave me out. There's no profit in it for me." Jack said dourly. The other man looked sick for a moment, before turning away.

"I can get you out of here. I helped build these cells. A little leverage in the right place and the doors come right off. And there's your profit. You're free."

Jack grinned maliciously. "You're a clever pup. What's your name?" The man, in the process of jamming the legs of a work bench through the bars, paused.

"Will. Will Turner."

"Short for William? No doubt named for your father, eh?" Jack gave him a searching gaze.

"Yes…" Will returned it, a frown on his face.

"Well, laddybuck, I've changed me mind. Should you spring me from this joint, I swear on pain of death to get you to the _Black_ _Pearl_ and your Elizabeth Swann. I promise." Jack stretched a grubby hand through the bars. Will took it in a firm grip and shook it.

"Don't go back on your word, pirate." he pushed the bench down, lifting the door free of its hinges. Balthier decided that now would be a good time to make his appearance. He strode out of the cell, glancing at Will, who stared.

"How-who-when-" he gaped.

"You're awfully unobservant, hmm?" Balthier picked his weapons and pouches from their places on the wall, relaxing at the familiar weight at his sides. "You are up against cursed, undead, skeleton pirates, Jack Sparrow. Have you any idea on how to bring them down?" He swiped a few pistols and some shot from a rack.

"We aren't bringing anything down until we have ourselves a ship and a crew." Jack replied. Will found his voice at last.

"Who are _you_?" he almost shouted. Balthier winced.

"Not so loud, fool! The guards will hear if they didn't already hear the racket you made earlier. The name's Balthier, no surname. I'm a… a pirate, too." It felt strange, not saying _sky pirate_ and simply saying _pirate_. There wasn't anything special about being just a pirate.

"Is he coming with us?" Will asked, looking to Jack.

"'Course he is!" the man barked, grabbing his own affects. "I've got a plan for the both of you."

Balthier raised an elegant eyebrow. "That plan is…?"

"When I have it all figured out in my head, I shall tell you." Jack answered.

* * *

Apparently, the first part of the plan was to obtain a ship. They huddled under a bridge, examining possible targets.

"You feeling alright, Balthy?" Jack asked his fellow pirate.

"_Balthier!_" he snarled. "I'm fine; why do you ask?"

"Think you can do a little witchery to help us get on board that ship?" Jack gestured to the _HMS Dauntless_, anchored a little ways into the harbor. Will's eyes widened.

"You want to take _that ship?_ We'll never get it out off the bay!" he cried. Jack shushed him impatiently.

Balthier ignored the outburst, examining the flurry of activity taking place on the deck. "If I could avoid using any kind of Magick, it would give us the advantage of surprise. There are so many people… I don't think I could hold them all. I told you, I can't do spells forever, and the more targets, the more energy it takes." He explained. "Once we are there, I might be able to do something, though. What, I have yet to think of it." Jack sniffed.

"Pity, would have been rather helpful. On to the next plan."

And that was how the trio found themselves underwater with a boat on their heads, making a lethargic march toward the boat. It defied the laws of physics as to how they stayed down there when the boat they used as an air cap threatened to rocket to the surface. The bay must have been shallower than it looked.

"This is either brilliant, or incredibly mad." Will gasped, wincing as he stepped into a wooden crab trap. He tried to shake it free, but failed.

"Funny how often the two coincide." Jack remarked. Balthier thought absently of his father, the "mad" Doctor Cid. He hadn't really been mad, it turned out. Venat really did exist. His brilliance had been invested in the nethicite that had later consumed him. Ironic, really.

"When we finally get underway, I shall have to wash my clothes. No doubt this seawater is murder on my vest and leathers." Balthier announced to distract himself from _that_ particular train of thought.

"Why would you chose to wear such frivolous things in the first place?" Will asked, looking the finery up and down.

"This 'frivolous thing' is actually slightly armored, it's called chromed leather." Balthier replied, in reference to his vest. "Salt water damage is the bane of apparel."

They finally reached the boat, using the crab trap that had trapped Will's foot as a rope to haul themselves onboard. Jack scurried around the ship's wheel, brandishing his pistol. Balthier checked his own filched pistol, counting his lucky stars that some how the additional shot and powder had stayed dry during their underwater trek. Perhaps his pouches were more waterproof then he'd originally thought.

"Everybody stay calm! We are taking over this ship!" Jack roared, waving the gun in what he hoped was a threatening manner. Balthier took his preferred stance that he usually used with his guns, arm outstretched, pistol cocked and trained on the man he recognized as Gillette. Will rushed to Jack's shoulder, pointing his sword and putting on what he hoped was a fierce face. The show could have frightened a tame cockatrice, but not trained military men.

"Aye! Avast!" he shouted. Jack looked at him disparagingly, Gillette paused, a haughty grin on his lips, and Balthier rubbed his eyes with the hand not holding the pistol. The lad had a lot to learn about pirating.

"This ship cannot be crewed by three men, and two of you hardly look like the sea-going types." Gillette's eyes darted from Balthier and Will back to Jack. "You'll never make it out of the bay." he finished smugly.

"Don't underestimate my chaps!" Jack shouted at the snickering crew behind Gillette. "You forget! I'm _Captain_ Jack Sparrow!" he raised his pistol to rest just in front of the Marine's nose. "Savvy?"

In the face of two pistols pointed at his head and the sword hovering dangerously close to his hat (though he was more worried it would accidentally take off Sparrow's head), the Lieutenant gulped. Balthier pulled an evil grin, gesturing toward a dingy.

* * *

"Sir, they've taken the _Dauntless_!" Gillette screamed from his position at the front of the dingy.

Commodore Norrington's head jerked up at the call, immediately pulling out a spy glass. He first saw Gillette waving his arms wildly, then saw what happened aboard the larger ship.

"It's Sparrow, Turner, and that thieving cur we picked up on the dock." Norrington scowled. "Open the sails! Prepare to give chase!"

On board the _Dauntless_, the motley crew watched as the white sails of the _Interceptor_ unfurled to take in the sea breeze.

"Here they come." Will remarked, brows wrinkled with worry. Jack gave a devious grin.

"Just as planned, my boy, just as planned."

* * *

Second chapter up. REVIEW, please…


	3. Tortuga

They are getting longer… and longer…

I'm enjoying myself way too much. I shouldn't, but I'm obsessed with this story. Even though, at this point in time, I'm not getting too much readership, I can still write for fun, yes? I'm already working on chapter four. Anonymous reviews have been enabled, so if I have any anonymous readers, please, feel free.

Again, thanks to **ElTangoDeRoxanne**, who is giving me support, and hopefully, I'm not swamping your brain with my frequent updates. This will probably slow down when school sets in again in a while.

So enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or Final Fantasy XII.

* * *

Grappling hooks flew over the edge of the ship. From their hiding place near the bow of the ship, Balthier, Jack, and Will watched as the soldiers began to swing across, storming across the deck with muskets loaded. A gangplank was hauled across the brink between the two ships, and Norrington embarked, with a stern faced Lieutenant following him.

"We need a distraction." Will whispered to his two pirate companions. "We'll never get across without them noticing us at this rate." They could make out Norrington's distinctive shout.

"Search every cabin, every hull, down to the bilges. Not even the brig is exempt!" The soldiers swarmed everywhere, running below deck, climbing toward the crows nest. The deck of the _Interceptor_ was almost empty.

"We're going to get caught!" Will said, getting panicky.

At that moment, a sailor swung across the gap. Jack grabbed him, clamping a hand over his mouth, and punched him in the face. The man collapsed to the deck unconscious, blood dripping from his nose.

"Make a distraction!" Jack mouthed at Balthier, pointing to the remaining soldiers on the _Interceptor. _He grabbed the rope, swinging across to the smaller ship, before turning and throwing the rope back across to Will and Balthier.

The sky pirate frowned, digging into his vast reserve of cunning and intellect. He suddenly had just the idea. _Madness it is, then, _he thought, flinging Confuse on one of the soldiers pacing the deck with a flick of his wrist.

Just as Will landed on the _Interceptor_, the soldier prepared to cross onto the _Dauntless_, opening his mouth in surprise at the sight that greeted his Confused mind. Pirates were dashing across the deck of the _Dauntless_.

"Commodore!" he shouted, scrambling onto the ship and loading his gun. "Pirates!" Norrington spun to face them, drawing his sword, but blinked when he saw no one but his own troops searching the ship.

"What are you—" he began, but dove for cover when the crazed soldier fired into the crowd.

"Commodore! Where are you? Can't you see there's pirates?" the soldier screamed, reloading his gun.

* * *

On the _Interceptor_, Will set about hacking the ropes holding the two ships together apart with his axe. Balthier swung across onto the small ship, tucking into a neat roll to soften his landing. Jack raised an eyebrow at the sky pirate, nodding toward the scuffle that broke out as soldier now fought viciously against his own comrades.

"Is that your doing?" he asked.

"Yes, it is. Now let's be off." Balthier lapsed into contemplation as he helped Will cut the lines using his Danjuro dagger, listlessly noting with amusement how it bit through the rope and the wooden railing as if cutting through paper. Magick usually wasn't his favored weapon. While he was skilled in Arcane, Black, and White Magicks (Fran had forced him to learn Black and White Magick and he'd learned Arcane Magick out of curiosity for the illusionary spells), he never used them as extensively as he felt he would have to now. In his pouch, he still had a few Ethers left in case he ran low on Mist Energy. He cut the last rope as Jack began to steer the ship away and out to sea.

Balthier winced when a groaning scrape and snap met his ears; they'd forgotten to pull in the gangplanks, and now the spans of wood had tumbled into the water with a loud, tell-tale splash. Onboard the _Dauntless_, Norrington froze when he heard the sound, turning away from the madly struggling soldier who was still yammering about nonexistent pirates.

The _Interceptor_ was sailing away, Jack Sparrow at its helm.

"Back to the ship!" he shouted, and there was a mad rush for ropes. An unfortunate bosun, hoping to be a hero, made the first leap, swinging high and letting go. The pirate's laughter could be heard floating toward the _Dauntless_ as the bosun crashed into the water and began swimming toward the dingy holding Gillette and his men, rowing madly for the flagship. Jack waved his hat at them in an airy salute.

"Thank you, Commodore, for getting us ready to make way! Would've had a tough time of it ourselves!" he hooted with raucous laughter. Will came to stand next to Jack again, meeting Norrington's eyes with a steady, defiant gaze. Disgusted, the Commodore turned away as his soldiers opened fire. Jack and Will ducked under the railing as the bullets whined around them, while Balthier quickly stood and returned fire with his pistol. He had the accuracy of a professional sharpshooter, his shot finding its mark in the hand of a soldier. The red coated military man dropped his musket with a cry, clutching his bleeding hand and falling back toward the deck. Balthier dropped back under the gunwale with Jack and Will as a hail of bullets cracked overhead, a grin on his face.

"The guns here aren't bad," he remarked, reloading.

"I've never seen anyone hit such a small target from that distance before!" Will exclaimed, peering over the rail to look at the gap between ships again. The pirate pulled the blacksmith down before a bullet implanted itself in his brains. Balthier cocked the pistol again before deciding that even with his skill, he was out of range to hit the soldiers with his small gun.

"I wasn't a gunman in Ivalice for nothing." he muttered to Jack, replacing the hammer on the pistol. He looked back at the _Dauntless_ just as Will gave them a warning.

"They're running out some guns… they mean to fire on us! They would fire on their own ship?" he asked, stunned. "Your plan better have worked, Jack." Jack looked to Balthier.

"I know it worked." he grinned.

* * *

In Gillette's dingy, the Lieutenant looked up as the shadow of the _Dauntless _loomed over his tiny boat.

"Sir! They've dismantled the rudder chain… I can't turn her!" the helmsman called to Norrington.

"What?" he gasped in disbelief. The rudder chains had been melted beyond repair as if by an intense flame. How it happened, he had no idea.

"Commodore! Turn! Turn!" a voice shrieked from the bow. Gillette was waving his arms as if he could some how turn the ship with his will. When the _Dauntless_ continued its approach, he stopped, instead howling, "_Abandon ship!_"

With cries of terror, the men in the dingy leaped into the sea and swam for their lives as the boat was crushed under the larger ship.

As the sound of cracking wood, Norrington bowed his head in defeat. Beside him, Lieutenant Theodore Groves remarked,

"That's got to be the best pirate I've ever seen." Norrington's eyes burned when his earlier comment, _That's got to be the worst pirate I've ever seen,_ came back and bit him with a vengeance.

"So it would seem." he growled as the _Interceptor _sailed toward the sunset.

* * *

The next morning rose to find a richly embroidered vest and fancy white shirt flapping in the breeze from a rope stretched across the _Interceptor_'s deck, drying in the air. Balthier reclined bare-chested in the sun on the deck with Will and Jack, enjoying the Caribbean warmth on his slightly tanned skin.

"So," Jack began conversationally. "What brought you out here, Mr. Turner?" Will looked up from sharpening his sword with a whetstone.

"I lived in London most of my life," Will began, a strange light entering his eyes. Balthier recognized it as the smoldering flames of adventure that had often lit Vaan's eyes— and indeed his own— many a time. "When my mother died, I came out here, searching for my father." he gave the sword a final pass with the stone before passing it to Balthier, who accepted it and began to sharpen Lohengrin. He thought of sharpening Danjuro, but gave a little grin when he was able to slice off a little piece of the whetstone using the dagger. It was obviously sharp enough. He tossed it back to Will, who gave a little yelp when it landed neatly in his lap.

Jack got up and pulled a few ropes connected to the sails to check their security. "That so?" he said absently, moving to take the helm again. Will's eyes darkened and he climbed to his feet.

"You didn't want to help me, Jack, until you heard my father's name. I'm not stupid. _You knew my father_."

Jack pulled on another rope, leaning back and wiping the sweat from his brow with a cloth wrapped hand. "Aye, I knew him." Balthier had a feeling that a personal conversation was about to take place and got up to check his clothes near the bow. Pleased that they were dry, he pulled them back on, tightening the straps of his vest on his back.

In the stern, Jack continued, exhaling deeply.

"I'm probably one of the few who knew him as William Turner. Everyone else called him Bootstrap or Bootstrap Bill."

"Bootstrap Bill?" Will looked horrified.

"A good man. A good pirate." Jack turned to look Will in the eye. "When I first clapped eyes on you, thought he'd come to haunt me, I did." Will drew his sword.

"It's not true! He was a— a merchant! A law abiding citizen of Britain!" he cried. Jack's eyes were hard.

"Call me a liar, whelp, but it's the truth. He was a bloody pirate, same as him and me!" Jack waved a hand toward Balthier, who had been slowly making his way back toward them, giving them time to argue. Will put the sword at Jack's back with a snarl, and at the same time, Balthier drew his stolen gun, coolly covering Will. The ship was silent except for the creak of wood and the flapping of sails. Jack broke the silence first.

"Put it away, boy. You don't want to get beat again."

"You cheated!" Will shouted, making to rush Jack with the blade. "In a fair fight, I'd have won!"

Jack ducked to the side, rolling the ship's wheel with him. "That's not an incentive for me to play fair then, is it?" he grunted.

At the same time, Balthier fired, aiming at the hilt of Will's sword. The bullet clanged off the heart-shaped guard, knocking the sword from the blacksmith's grasp. With a groan, the ship's boom swung toward him, sweeping him off his feet and suspending him over the water. Will gasped as the air was knocked out of him, and he struggled to hang on or swing himself onto the spar.

"Hang there a moment, will you?" Jack said, marching to the sword and picking it up.

"Don't kill him," Balthier warned. "You might need him later."

"Oh, I won't." Jack replied nonchalantly. "I do need him." he turned to Will, who dangled helplessly from the spar.

"There's only a few important things to a pirate, besides treasure, women, and fame. What you can do, and what you can't do. I'm not sure about your values, but the latter rules certainly apply at the moment." Will snarled, barring his teeth.

"Scary." Jack dismissed the show. "_You _can accept your father was a pirate, or you can't. It's not so hard. Now, _I_ can give you a lesson in manners that would have you out cold on the floor when I'm done with you. It's not so hard to sail a ship into Tortuga with two people. But I still need you yet. I can't let you drown. So, can you sail under my command, or can you not?"

"I can sail." Will hissed, and Jack turned the wheel, dumping him back on deck.

"Good boy." Jack said, tossing him the sword. "Bal!"

Balthier turned toward him irritably. "Very well, if I must be called by some endearing nickname, 'Bal' will have to do." he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Fran called him 'Bal' sometimes. Very, very rarely. Jack smiled wolfishly at the victory.

"Brilliant, I love giving nicknames. Run up there and take down that flag, would you? I'd hate to have those pirate lots in Tortuga blasting me to bits before they realize it's me." he called.

Balthier kicked off his shoes and climbed into the rigging as if he'd been born to do it, toes lithely gripping the ropes as he made the ascent upward. The view of the sea from above was beautiful, though not as good as the view of the sky from an airship. The wind whipped at his face, the brine in the air making his eyes sting. He spread his arms, listening to the flap of air through his sleeves. It was like he was flying again. The setting sun was staining everything orange, and made his earrings shine.

"I think I could grow to like this," he gasped, the wind grabbing his words and tossing them away as soon as they were out of his throat. On the horizon, a hump of land was coming into view, lights winking on as night fell. Balthier suddenly remembered what he'd climbed up there to do, and hurriedly folded the flag, untying it from its post. Now… he always wanted to try this. Fran always said he was too reckless with his life. And this little stunt could have him crashing through the deck if it went wrong.

Balthier leaped from the crow's nest. Wind screamed in his ears as he descended, and he grabbed a loose rope as he fell, using it to break his momentum and swing across the deck. He let go, twisting in the air to do a flip in the air, and landed in a neat crouch before Will and Jack.

"Where do you want this?" he asked, holding the flag out to the pirate.

"Just tuck it away somewhere." Jack replied. "Nice little jump, by the way."

"Your hands— they're bleeding." Will pointed out. Balthier put the flag in an empty box laying on the deck and put it between some barrels to keep it from blowing away, then looked at his palms. Indeed, the hand he'd used to grab the rope was torn from the friction, but it didn't hurt badly. Balthier licked the blood away from the wound, briefly savoring the salty tang, before wrapping it with a cloth he tore from a spare soldier's uniform. Will looked sick.

"It's just a little blood!" Balthier snorted.

"You drank your own blood." Will pointed out.

"More like licked it away. Where I come from, blood can be used to do nasty things to you. Better to clean it all up." he replied airily, not particularly worried about infection. If he did get sick, he could just use Cleanse. He had plenty of Mist Energy. On his jaunt through Ivalice, he had managed to become stronger somehow. He doubted he would have been able to defeat Vayne when he'd first met Vaan.

"Where do you come from?" Will asked, curiously. Balthier mentally cursed; he hoped he would have been able to avoid this with Will.

"Do you want the truthful answer?" he asked.

"The truthful…?"

"Swear you will not call me mad, first." Balthier said sharply. Will looked startled.

"I swear."

Balthier took a deep breath. "I come from a land called Ivalice. In my land, there are several countries, the most prominent being Dalmasca, Archadia, Bhujerba, and Rozzaria. It's a little different from this world in technology. We have airships— yes, ships that fly through the air," he confirmed Will's incredulous look. "And we also have Magick." At this, Will scoffed.

"If magic does indeed exist, then your world would be condemned for use of witchcraft."

"It's not witchcraft!" Balthier snarled. "It's actually quite useful. We wouldn't have been half as successful in commandeering this ship if it hadn't been for my Magick!"

A light seemed to go on in Jack's head. "That soldier earlier on the _Dauntless_! You did something to him that made him wacky in the brains, didn't you!" Balthier nodded.

"I Confused him. It's a usefull little Magick that makes it impossible to distinguish friend from foe." he explained.

"And the boat! I mean, ship!" Jack seemed to be on a roll. "You used some kind of magic to melt the rudder chain! Wickedly clever."

"You are getting the hang of how it works, Mr. Sparrow. It was a Fire spell." Balthier remarked, leaning back on the railing. Will looked back and forth between them.

"Do something. Do some Magick for me. Prove that this force exists, and I will believe you are from a different world. You can't do things like that here." Will said weakly.

"Very well." Balthier knew he would probably pay for the paltry waste of energy later, but if it would convince the stubborn blacksmith, he would take the chance. He could probably build up energy by walking around, anyway. The sky pirate held his hand out in his classic "spell casting" position. Light pulsed around him, and once again, he felt the Mist present in this world answer his call. When he pulled his hand back, the little bead of the Cure spell sank itself into his chest and spread through his body, healing the cut on his hand without even a scar.

"Impossible." Will gasped. Jack grinned and gripped the wheel.

"That's what I thought too, until he healed a bullet wound in his arm with that little trick." he said. "Now let's concentrate on getting into Tortuga."

"Tortuga?" Both Balthier and Will looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"Aye. Tortuga."

* * *

Tortuga was remarkably like Balfonheim before Reddas had come along. Pirates fought in the streets or fired pistols into the air in drunken fits. Others lay under barrels drinking, unperturbed as men fell from balconies and landed, groaning, nearby. Balthier felt right at home among the squalor, not even jumping as a drunkard attempted to take a crack at another with a cane. Jack caught the cane as it was raised over the man's head and continued walking, taping his new accessory on the ground.

"Such a sad world it would be, if this lovely little joint did not exist. The world has never breathed deep into the sweet bouquet that is Tortuga." Jack said to his companions as they strolled.

"Actually, in Ivalice there's a town called Balfonheim that's amazingly like here." Balthier remarked comfortably as they walked by a man tied up in a well, spitting water.

"Is that so, Balthy? What do you think of it, William?" Jack asked, as Balthier hissed.

"I told you, if you aren't going to call me Balthier, you can call me Bal, but _not_ _Balthy_!" he had to struggle to keep his voice lowered. Will looked at them both bewilderedly.

"Well… Tortuga… will certainly linger a while." he managed to say as a particularly busty woman and a besotted man ran by.

"I'll tell you! If every town was like Tortuga, no one would ever feel unwanted." Jack said happily, just as a girl dressed completely in red stormed up to him with murder in her eyes. "Ah! Scarlett!" he cried, sidling up to her.

He was rewarded by a vicious slap, and Scarlett stomped away. Jack glared after her dolefully. "Not sure I deserved that. Can't even remember what I did…"

Balthier rubbed his face. He knew the feeling. Another girl, this time completely in yellow, had come up to Jack, a tight smile on her painted lips. Jack smiled, reaching to embrace her. "Giselle! My—"

"Who was she?" Giselle interrupted him, before giving him an equally ferocious slap. Jack spun around again to face Will and Balthier.

"I just may have deserved that." He mumbled as she walked away, holding his fingers up to show just how little he deserved that. Will smiled and nodded, not understanding. Balthier offered a few words of condolence.

"Happens to everyone, mate." Balthier said, slipping into the brogue of Balfonheim. He didn't want his normal, aristocratic accent to stand out among the drunken slurs of Tortuga.

"I see our contact, but we're going to have to do something about him." Jack said. He walked to the man in the well, using his rusty dagger to cut the man free. As he pulled the victim out, he gestured for Will to pick up the nearby buckets.

"We're going to need these," Jack said, filling them with filthy water, before marching to the nearby pigsty, where a man lay snoring with a bottle of liquor in his hand. Jack dumped the first bucket full in his face.

"Curse ye for breathing you lead brained lummox!" the man came to with a roar, brandishing a knife. Squealing pigs scattered everywhere. He blinked. "Well I'll be… Jack!" he cried, jumping up to give the pirate a welcome, but gave him a dirty frown first. "You should know; 'tis bad luck to wake a man when he's sleeping." Jack nodded.

"I know how to break it, though. The man who did the waking buys the man who was doing the sleeping a drink while the man who was doing the sleeping listens to a proposition." Jack said the words incredibly fast, making it a tongue twister. The man who'd been laying on the pigs smiled.

"Ah, that ought to do it!" he said, grasping Jack's hand in an earnest handshake. As he made to follow them into the nearby inn, Will flung his own bucket of water onto the man. "Blast you, I'm already awake!" the man howled.

"That was… for the smell." Will replied primly. The man snorted, shaking his head vigorously to get the water out of his eyes.

* * *

Jack led Balthier and Gibbs, the man sleeping with the pigs, to a secluded corner of the tavern, stationing Will alone at a pole nearby.

"Stay on the lookout, will you? Watch for any unsavory types." Jack said to him in a low voice. Will nervously looked out over the bar floor, watching the all out brawl continue amid the sounds of cracking pistols and breaking glass.

"Getting him out of the way, hmm? Shrewd." Balthier remarked, drawing up a chair and slouching into it. Jack shrugged as he set three mugs of ale on the table. Gibbs sat down heavily, grabbed one and took a long drink. Balthier took a more reserved sip, tasting the fare of this new world. It wasn't bad, actually. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and rested the cool clay of the mug against his forehead. This world was so different and similar to Ivalice in so many ways! They had pirates, they had imperials, they had liquor (and it wasn't bad)… but they lacked the sky Ivalice had. How he missed the sky.

He was brought from his reverie when Jack started talking. "I'm going after the _Pearl_." he said with finality. Gibbs choked on his mouthful of ale, and Balthier reached across the table to give him a pat on the back. The man nodded gratefully, slamming his mug down on the table and wiping his mouth.

"You're crazy!" Gibbs coughed. Jack ignored him.

"I know where it is, and I'm going to take it." he continued. Gibbs stared at him with wide eyes.

"You're a fool. And Barbossa is not a man to suffer fools. You'll only end up marooned on that island again."

"Ah, this time will be different." Jack replied. "This time… I just have a certain amount of leverage." He looked toward the pole where Will was standing. Balthier glanced at the blacksmith, and their eyes met. Will immediately looked away. Clever lad, he'd been eavesdropping.

"I'm not following you, Jack." Gibbs mumbled into his cup, glaring at the pole. Just then, a rather busty… woman sidled up to Will, leering at him with blackened teeth. Balthier was sure that there was hag somewhere in her gene pool, but just as he would have done, Will edged away from her, and into Gibb's line of sight.

"That kid?" he gasped.

"That… boy… is the last remaining descendant of Bootstrap Bill Turner." Jack let the words hang on the air.

"Is he? Well… our fortunes may just have changed for the better, I says." Gibbs looked at Balthier. "Who's he?"

"He's one o' me mates," Jack said cheerfully. "And I'm glad to have 'im. He's a great shot with a gun."

Balthier was thankful Jack didn't mention his ability to use Magick. He had a feeling that a superstitious man like Gibbs would leave immediately if he found he was working with one who used "witchcraft". As much as he hated the term, it was the easiest way for these people to understand Magick. Though that meant that if he were ever captured again, he would most likely be burned at the stake. Will and Jack had explained it to him.

"'m called Captain Balthier." Balthier said calmly, still using the Balfonheim cant. "You can call me Balthier."

"Or Bal. You can't call him Balthy though." Jack chimed, but winced when Balthier stomped on his foot. "He's coming with us. Balthy's got his own reasons, but he's loyal." Jack gasped again when Balthier ground a steel-shod foot against his toes.

"Sorry, _Balthier!_ My foot!"

"Much better." Gibbs gave a hearty grin as Jack scowled at the sky pirate.

"Well now, there's bound to be some sailors crazy as you on this rock of an island." he said. "I'll find us the best crew in Tortuga!"

* * *

Yay.


	4. Berserk

I love writing this story. I'm pretty sure I've said that for the last two chapters, but I'll say it again. I love writing this story.

And as always, thanks to **ElTangoDeRoxanne**, who is so nice to me and leaves me nice reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or Final Fantasy XII.

* * *

"_This_ is the best crew in Tortuga?" Will groaned, raising his eyebrows at the ragtag assortment of men before them.

"Aye, and all of 'em crazy to boot." Gibbs replied. They were definitely interesting. Balthier found he was amused by a tiny (but tough) looking man with a bald head and a determined air, and another man with a blue bandana and a colorful avion on his shoulder.

"What is that avion?" Balthier asked Will, who was watching Jack pace the dock with a green banana in his hand.

"Avion?" Will was confused.

"Sorry, bird. The one on that man's shoulder."

"It's called a _parrot_. Sometimes they can talk." Will answered. He was proved right when Jack reeled off a tongue twister about loyalty and courage, and the bird squawked,

"_Wind in the sails, wind in the sails!_" Jack looked exasperatedly at Gibbs.

"We figure that means 'yes'." Gibbs interpreted for him.

A woman's voice cracked over their heads. "What's the benefit for us?"

Jack crept toward the voice, trailed by Balthier and Will. Gibbs had frozen. When he reached the speaker (a dark skinned girl with a floppy brimmed hat), Jack reached a tentative hand forth, and with a grimace on his face, lifted the hat away. Long, lanky black hair blew in the breeze, and the girl's angry face glared at them.

"Anamaria…" Jack murmured, and was given, for the third time, a violent slap across the face. Balthier wondered if the man had lost all feeling there from being slapped so much.

"I suppose you didn't deserve that one, either?" Will needled Jack.

"No, that one I deserved." Jack said, and Anamaria nodded with a satisfied look on her face.

"_You stole my boat!_" she grit. Jack opened his mouth to deliver some retort, but was silenced by another slap. Balthier winced sympathetically. Jack's manhood was taking a beating.

"Actually, it was borrowed! Without permission, true, but I had every intention to bring it back!" Jack cried.

"_But you didn't!_" Anamaria shrieked. Balthier suddenly thought of the mast he'd seen in Port Royal. He didn't think Anamaria was ever going to get her boat back; by now, it was probably sitting at the bottom of the bay.

"You'll get another one!" Jack cried, flouncing the banana as if he could use it to ward off the woman's anger.

"A better one." Balthier murmured in his ear. He knew how you had to placate women; he did it all the time.

"A better one!" Jack shouted.

"That one." Will whispered in Jack's other ear, pointing to the _Interceptor_. Jack opened his mouth, but stopped, frowning, and whipped around to face them. Will and Balthier leaned back to avoid getting hit by Jack's swinging hair ornaments.

"What one?" he asked, puzzled. Will nodded toward the chosen ship. Eerily, all of the crewmember's heads turned toward the ship at the same time. "_That one?_" Jack barked. The crewmembers turned to look back at him again. Anamaria raised an ebony eyebrow.

"Aye! That one!" Jack said, defeat in his voice.

"You did well to let that ship go," Balthier muttered. "You've garnered support from your crew, and you'll get the _Black Pearl_ back, anyway."

"I hope." Jack returned, stomping away. Gibbs caught up to him.

"It's bad luck to bring a woman onboard, Jack!" he said.

"Come now, my first mate is a lady!" Balthier said, catching up to them.

"Is it now?" Gibbs looked surprised. "I thought you a sensible lad."

"She's the best first mate I've ever had," Balthier retorted, while thinking, _she's the only first mate I've ever had_. "I've gotten out of many a bind, thanks to her."

Jack turned back to them, looking into the sky. "Where we are going, I would rather have Anamaria than not."

* * *

Thunder crashed and boomed, and lighting ripped the sky asunder. Water washed over the deck, and sailors dashed, slipping and sliding about, trying to tie all the important objects down. As the _Interceptor_ took another plunge through the waves, Balthier clung like a barnacle to some ropes lashed around the deck, squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of salt water before rushing to help Gibbs and Will haul ropes. He was almost swept overboard when a gust of wind pushed another wave over the gunwales. The three fell together in a heap, before leaping up again and grabbing for the slippery rope.

"How are we going to find an uncharted island with a compass that doesn't point north?" Will shouted over the howl of the squall.

"We're not trying to find north now, are we?" Gibbs returned smartly. "What's gotten into you that has you in such a fine mood now, Jack?" he called to their makeshift leader. Jack looked up, his eyes illuminated by some kind of brilliance or madness.

"We are catching up to them!" Jack shouted back, a wolfish smirk on his face. Balthier stumbled toward the helm, clutching the podium in front of the wheel to avoid getting washed away. His hair, normally standing in neat, orderly rows, was plastered to his head, and his sleeves were stuck to his skin.

"It's too dangerous, Jack! I'm not usually one to complain, but this ship is going to come apart!" Balthier cried over the storm's roar and the boat's desperate groans.

"She can hold a while more!" Jack shouted.

Balthier's arms screamed in protest as he helped the crew brace a wild yardarm that threatened to swing free. Orange light fell on his face again. The sun was rising. He dug his feet into the ground, muttering a prayer to the gods he didn't believe in. Was it insanity? The rains were slacking off. Gibbs skillfully tied the rope to an anchor point on the rail as the last few drops of rain fell, and Balthier sank to the deck.

"Come on, lad, there's still much to do!" Gibbs cried. "We're not through this yet!"

"Are you feeling alright?" Will asked him with consternation. The sky pirate was pale, his breathing labored.

"Ah…" Balthier groaned. "I'm a sky pirate, not a bloody sea pirate!" he lurched to his feet. "I'm cut out to be piloting ships through the air, not sodding manual labor."

He took a potion bottle from his one of his side pouches. Thankfully, it had remained intact, though much of what he had inside the pouch was crushed and jumbled together. Balthier downed it in a single gulp, grimacing at the horrible medicinal taste, but felt relieved when his churning stomach and pounding head calmed.

A thick fog rolled in. Through the haze, he could see the ghostly wreck of ships, like huge skeletons. There was a shuttering groan and a splash in the mist as a ship broke down further. Sharks poured from the gaping holes.

Gibbs stood next to Balthier. "So many sailors were claimed by that passage." he said, shaking his head. "We were lucky."

Balthier looked toward Jack, who was still as stone by the helm, glaring at his compass. "We are going to need still more, I think." he said quietly. Gibbs blinked, then nodded solemnly.

"Aye."

"Jack's keeping things from us. Does he not trust his own crew?" Balthier asked.

"He's learned a lesson from when he his crew rebelled. When he gave Barbossa the bearings for Isla de Muerta, they marooned him on the island shortly after that." Gibbs explained. "I wouldn't blame him from keeping his intentions to himself." The steady thump of shoes on the deck alerted them to the approach of Will.

"How did he get off the island?" Will asked. Balthier rolled his eyes.

"He didn't tell me that when we were in prison, and I'm sure whatever tale you are about to tell us false." he interrupted when Gibbs opened his mouth. Jack strolled by.

"Gentlemen we have arrived at our destination. Let's lower a boat; I'll go inside with Balthy and Will." he beckoned them toward a dingy. Balthier was running out of innovative ways to remind Jack not to call him "Balthy." He decided this time to flick a stray woodchip at the back of the pirate's head. It bounced off his hat, but knocked it forward over Jack's eyes. A conveniently placed rope made him trip and fall face first into the selected dingy.

"Sorry! Bal or Balthier! Enough already!" This time, Balthier had the victorious smirk.

Jack stood up, righting his hat.

"Gibbs!" he called, and said man turned to face him.

"Should I not return, keep to the Code."

* * *

In the caverns of the Isla de Muerta, there was no light, save that of the lantern in Will's hands.

"These pirates are the undead, right?" Will asked fretfully, glancing back at Jack and Balthier, who were rowing. "Does that mean that my sword can't kill them?"

"We only need a distraction to get back your bonny lass." Jack said. "And Bal can manage that, right?"

"Perhaps, and perhaps not." the sky pirate said softly. "There is a spell in Ivalice called 'Holy' that is particularly useful against undead creatures. I've often chided myself for not taking the time to learn it from Fran."

"Maybe you should learn it when you get back. You never know when you'll meet undead." Jack said. "Pull harder, Balthier. I can't row this boat by me onesy." Balthier picked up the slack, and the boat glided forward again.

"The code you mentioned earlier," Will spoke suddenly. "What's that?" Even Balthier knew the pirate's code, though he rarely followed it.

"Whoever falls behind stays behind." the pirates said at the same time, and Will shuddered as the lantern light fell on the bones of a pirate skeleton surrounded by crabs. They raised their claws in the air threateningly until they were masked in the darkness again.

"There's no heroes amongst thieves, is there?" Will said bleakly.

"I saved Ivalice. That's got to count for some heroism." Balthier said with a slight smirk. Will twisted to look at him.

"You did it for your own benefit. You thought you were going to get something out of it, didn't you?" he asked pointedly.

"Yes. At first I did. But later I did it for penance. My father was going to be the cause of my world's fall. Stupid blighter died before he could set things aright, and let it fall to me. The unwanted son and heir." Balthier said bitterly. Jack could sense his anger, emanating like a dark cloud. He changed the subject hurriedly.

"You're well on your way to becoming a pirate yourself, Will. Indulging in acts of piracy, and being obsessed with treasure, all very good. You can join my crew when we're done." he said.

The boat knocked against the ground, and Will jumped from the dingy, snarling,

"It's not true. I've never seen so much of it in one place, that's all. I'm not obsessed with treasure."

"Not all treasure has value we can measure, mate." Jack said, looking out over a sea of pirates in the next chamber from a gap in the cave wall. Balthier winced as he climbed up next to them, thinking of his earlier comment to Ashe in the tomb of Raithwall. _Call me old fashioned, but I was hoping for something whose worth we could measure_.

"Elizabeth…" Will whispered, seeing her standing next to a bearded man with an extravagant hat who was giving a long winded speech. The speaker could be no other Hector Barbossa, former first mate of the Black Pearl, and now the ship's Captain.

"We've been tested and tried for ten years, each man proving his mettle time and time again!" he was shouting, lashing his crew into a screaming crowd. Elizabeth's lips were quivering. She was clearly frightened.

"Our punishment was disproportionate to our crime! How else were we to know it were curse gold?" Barbossa continued. "Behold! The cursed treasure that is the source of our suffering!" he kicked the lid from the stone chest, picking gold coins out and letting them clatter back.

"Who here has given the blood price on the gold?" Barbossa shouted. Balthier snorted. He was certainly a charismatic speaker. The pirates all screamed.

"_Us!_"

"Whose blood is yet to be paid?"

"_Hers!_"

"Jack! Come on!" Will shouted, climbing over the lip of the cave. Coins clanged to the ground.

"Will! Stop!" Jack tried to grab Will and pull him back. Balthier covered his face with his hands.

In one movement, the pirate's heads turned toward them. Barbossa's mouth gapped openly.

"You! How did you…?" he gasped.

"Get off the island? Sea turtles, mate. You forgot. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack said, trying to buy time.

"I won't be forgetting that again. I'll take care of you right now! Boys! Get 'em!" Barbossa shouted. "Don't let them get away!"

The mass of pirates surged toward them. In the confusion, Will glimpsed Elizabeth sliding down the mound of treasure, slipping away. Balthier did not miss it either. He took a breath.

"I have a plan. You may or may not like it, but it's the only way. Will, in the confusion, you can get Elizabeth, and escape with Jack. Just… don't let me see you. I don't think I could stop myself…"

"What are you going to do?" Will asked, edging toward Elizabeth.

"I'm going to cast Berserk on myself. It will give me increased strength and speed, but it will also make me nigh uncontrollable. I won't care who I hurt. I won't even tell it's you until I come back to my senses a while later." Balthier replied with a sad smile. "Hurry, go get her."

He held his hand out, channeling the Mist into the right spell. When he pulled his hand back, he felt the spell take hold.

* * *

To everyone else in the room, red light seemed to wash out of the ground, enveloping the sky pirate in a crimson embrace. When it faded, Balthier looked very much the same, but had tensed into a half crouch, his head in his hands.

"Balthier?" Will asked, concern in his voice. Did the spell not take? Was he suffering some horrible side effect?

"Gh…" the sky pirate groaned thickly, clenching his hands in his hair. It was clear he was trying to speak. _Go_.

Jack had known enough men who fell in the lines of Berserkers as a warrior class to know that Balthier was beginning to work himself into a frenzy.

"Will, we have to get out of here. Get your girl, quickly!" Jack pushed Will toward Elizabeth. A few pirates meant to bar their path, drawing swords. At the sound of rasping metal, Balthier twitched.

"Ah…" he was gasping, his tenuous control on his mind was slipping away. Just a little more, he had to let them get farther. If he let go now, he might kill them.

"Out of my way!" Will shouted, drawing his own sword. The sound! The sound! Balthier peered through his fingers, his civilized self almost gone. There was a pirate with a torch in front of him. That one would go down first.

Will and the pirates engaged, their swords clashing. Balthier snapped.

His tongue could no longer formulate human words, wrap around delicate sounds and exquisite language. So he did the only thing he could.

He screamed. He couldn't help himself as he reared back, froth flying from teeth that were no longer his, but some beast's raging for blood. In a flash, his hands dropped to Lohengrin and Danjuro, drawing them both at once. With an unbridled cry, he flung himself upon his first victim.

Balthier blocked a swing of the torch with the long sword, slicing clean through the wood, and plunged Danjuro into the pirate's throat. Warm blood sprayed his face; there was an awful lot of it for a man who was supposed to be undead. With his tongue, he licked some of it away from his lips. A fiend of desire had awoken in him: he wanted more! The monster that wore his face wanted to drink its fill, satiate its thirst with these men's blood.

To the pirates, it was as if a demon had come among them. Balthier was a nightmare, his normally impeccable clothing dyed red as he tore through their ranks, weapons whirling. It was as if the very fires of hell shone from his eyes. Elizabeth was frozen in her hiding spot, watching terrified, until Will came up behind her, grabbing her with a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. The medallion was clutched in her hand. Jack held the other pirates at bay, occasionally shouting insults. Barbossa had vanished into the crowd, trying to help them subdue the berserk sky pirate.

"Come on," Will whispered, helping her to her feet and escorting her from the cave. A few pirates tried to give chase, but their motion attracted Balthier's attention.

Normally, he would have thought twice before throwing Danjuro, but he wasn't himself. He threw the dagger with wild abandon, imbedding it in the back of the pirate's head. The pirate fell, and Will, Jack, and Elizabeth made their escape into the boat. Elizabeth clutched Will's sleeve.

"What about him?" she cried, looking back toward the raging Balthier.

"Pirate's code! We're leaving him behind! Look at him! We can't take him with us! He sacrificed himself so that we could get you." Will said. Jack began to row. The sounds of the battle were fading.

"Who said there were no heroes amongst thieves?" Jack asked. Will sighed.

"I won't forget his sacrifice."

* * *

Everything was red. Red treasure, red stone, red humes who tried to bring him down. Balthier didn't flinch as a sword cut through his embroidered vest, grazing under his ribs as it cut through flesh. A bullet zipped through his arm, but the pain only spurred him into greater rage. Finally, a lucky shot with a pistol shattered the bones in his free hand. It all began to go downhill from there.

The spell began to wear off. A wall of pain slammed down upon him, threatening to overwhelm him, but he fought it off, darkness eating at the edge of his vision. A sword bit into his leg. This time, he cried out, falling to his knees. Balthier tried to formulate a cure spell, but the pain was too much, it was mussing with his brain. He could only lay there, gasping. Lohengrin slid out of his hands with a clatter. It was okay, Will, Elizabeth, and Jack had gotten away. His only regret was that Fran wasn't there. He would have liked to see her before he died.

Barbossa's breath tickled his cheek, foul air washing over his face.

"Don't think I'll let you get away with that little stunt, ye runt!" the pirate snarled, dragging him by the collar of his vest toward the chest of Cortes. Balthier did not fight, only choked for breath as he was strangled by his own clothing. "This chest was made as a punishment for the conquistador whose greed destroyed an entire civilization. Now, I'll use it to punish you!" Barbossa shouted, grabbing Balthier's hand and plunging it into the chest. He closed the sky pirate's finger around a coin, then lifted it out. As soon as the coin left the chest, Balthier felt… something… change. The pains in his body went away, and his mind cleared. This wasn't so bad…

"Where's his dagger? Bring it to me!" Barbossa snapped. The pirate who'd been "killed" with Danjuro came forth, presenting the dagger to his Captain. Two pirates flanked Balthier, dragging him to his feet and ripping his vest from his body. Without a word, Barbossa shoved Danjuro between Balthier's ribs, straight into his heart.

It was uncomfortable, to say in the least. Balthier gasped, staring in horror at the jeweled dagger hilt protruding from his chest. It didn't hurt, but there was something disconcerting about realizing you had been stabbed in a fatal area but weren't dead. With a sinking feeling in his not-beating heart, Balthier realized what had happened.

He was cursed, same as them.

"Give him a boat. You're going to go back to Jack for me, and give him this message. I want the girl. And until I get her, you're going to suffer, same as us." Barbossa ordered. Balthier nodded weakly, bringing a hand up to yank the dagger from his chest.

"Leave it!" Barbossa shouted. "It's proof that you're like us, now!"

Miserably, Balthier took his doublet back from the pirate who'd taken it from him, and picked up Lohengrin from the ground. It wouldn't do to fight anymore. They were in a stalemate. He couldn't kill them, and they couldn't kill him. It seemed to be his lot in life to have the worst things always happening to him.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set as the _Interceptor_ somewhat mournfully prepared to depart Isla de Muerta. Elizabeth, once deposited on deck, had groaned.

"Not more pirates?" she whispered. Gibbs stepped down to meet her.

"Welcome aboard, Miss Elizabeth. Welcome back, Jack, Will. Where's Balthier?" he asked. Will took a deep breath.

"He was left behind." he gave the news with a subdued air. Gibbs lowered his eyes. "Didn't know him long, but he was a good man. Keep to the code!" he shouted. The anchor was raised. They had just began to open the sails when the parrot belonging to Cotton squawked.

"Boat, ho!" The crew onboard the _Interceptor_ rushed to the rail.

A lone dingy was rowing toward them. The figure rowing was dressed in a fancy white shirt with billowing sleeves and had extremely short bronze hair.

"Balthy!" Jack shouted, waving his arms.

"It's Balthier!" came the reply across the water. The small boat pulled alongside the _Interceptor_, and Balthier himself climbed aboard. He paused when his head was level with the gunwale, cradling his hand near his chest. "I have some… rather bad news." the sky pirate pulled himself over the rail, then dropped his hand.

The dagger, still stuck in his chest, glinted in the dying sun. In his other hand, Balthier showed the crew the cursed coin.

"After you left, I came to, and they forced me to take it." he said bitterly, wrenching Danjuro from his ribs and probing around the hole with his fingers. It was already closing. His skin was cold, his heart no longer beat. It didn't even seem he needed to breathe anymore.

"Gentlemen," Balthier announced, finishing his examination. "For all intensive purposes, it would appear I am officially dead."

* * *

I loved writing berserk Balthier. I've had experience working in a haunted house on how to act insane, so I took a little bit from there. Anyway, please review.


	5. Getting Used to the Whole Undead Thing

This chapter has a little angst and a little romance in it. I don't know if it's okay, because I can honestly say that this is the first "romantic" piece I've ever written. Anywho, I am still thankful to **ElTangoDeRoxanne** for reviewing every chapter. You are a huge support in this endeavor, and you keep me motivated far beyond what I should be with your kind reviews.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or Final Fantasy XII.

* * *

The sun had set. Balthier knew what fate awaited him if the moonlight should shine upon his body, and feared to see his comrades' faces. Horror. Revulsion. Pity. Those were emotions that should not be directed at the leading man. By now, most of the crew was asleep, only a few on watch. That included Gibbs, Jack, and Will, who sat on the stairs leading to the upper deck with Elizabeth. Balthier was still awake, not really having the need to sleep anymore. His stomach growled. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, and when he tried some dried meat from one of his pouches, it had been tasteless, and didn't even take the edge off the hunger that gnawed in his stomach. Water had gone the same way. There was definitely a torture that went with the curse.

Balthier pushed himself a little further from the moonlight advancing toward him. Even under the aft stairs leading to the poop deck, where he'd tried to hide from the moon's spiteful eyes, there was light. He could see Elizabeth and Will's shadows overhead, hear their quiet voices. Elizabeth gave a laugh at something the blacksmith said. At least they were happy. He shifted to a more comfortable position. Suddenly Will spoke to him.

"Is that you down there, Balthier?" Will asked, peering into the darkness below the stairs. He could make out the glint of Balthier's eyes looking back at him, peeking between the slats of wood. "Stop hiding in the shadows and come up here with us. It's a beautiful night." Balthier shook his head. Elizabeth looked at him pityingly.

"You're afraid. You don't want to see that you're like them." she said quietly. Balthier froze, motionless below them. The only thing that let them know he was not actually dead was a slight narrowing of his golden eyes, shining in the darkness.

"I've seen what happens when the moon shines on them. They become skeletons. Their skin rots away, and their clothes wither. I'm not afraid of that anymore." she continued, looking out across the moonlit water.

"I'm not afraid of the undead." Balthier said quietly. "I fight them all the time. It's _being_ undead that frightens me. A long time ago, I told a friend of mine that the leading man never dies."

Balthier put his hand in the light, shivering as, with a creak, his fingers transformed into bones. His rings hung from fingers that were much too thin, resting on the joints. His sleeve, which had been mostly intact, fell onto the bones of his arm below, and became torn and moth eaten as if he'd been wearing them a hundred years. He played with his rings, spinning them through his skinny fingers to distract himself, before pulling his hand back into the shadows.

"Am I dead?" he asked. They did not know how to answer him. "Barbossa is coming, Jack. He doesn't need Elizabeth's blood, he needs Will's. But he doesn't know that yet, and he also forgot to force me to pay the price." Balthier continued absently.

"He needs my blood? Why?" Will frowned. "What did they take Elizabeth for?"

"Bootstrap Bill, also known as William Turner, was a member of my crew before I was mutinied upon." Jack spoke up, securing the helm of the ship after checking they were indeed heading back to Port Royal to drop Elizabeth off. "They killed him when he raised a fuss, but found out that they needed his blood to lift their curse."

"My father… is dead?" Will asked numbly. Jack nodded.

"Sorry about that, mate." he said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I told you he was a good man, a good pirate." Will ignored him.

"The pirates still want blood. My blood…" he whispered. He turned to Elizabeth, his eyes cold. "You gave them my surname, so they took you thinking they could use you to lift the curse. That was foolish. Why did you do it?"

"I don't know." Elizabeth answered, looking downcast. Will was not finished.

"This medallion was also a memento of my father. It's the only thing I have of him left! What possessed you to take it?" he asked, his voice rising.

"I was… I was afraid you were a pirate. Will, they execute pirates! I didn't want it to happen to you." Elizabeth stumbled over the words.

"It's not your blood they needed. It's mine. The blood of a pirate." Will whispered angrily.

"Forgive me." she pleaded with him, but Will was lost to his anger, slamming the coin on the stairs between them. With a sob, Elizabeth fled below deck in a rustle of purple cloth.

"Nice, William." Balthier groaned, going after her. "You've upset the lady." Will looked down at his hands. They were shaking.

"I don't know— I don't know what came over me." he looked at Jack, his eyes bright with… tears? "What's happening to me?"

"You're growing up, lad." Jack responded, going back to the helm and slumping over it, rubbing his eyes.

"The world isn't as simple as you'd hope, boy." Gibbs said, pushing Jack from the wheel. "Go to sleep, Captain. We've most likely got a pack of bloodthirsty undead on our heels, and we want to be as strong as possible to face it."

* * *

Elizabeth sat below deck, silent, but tears dripped off her chin.

"He didn't mean it, you know." At the sound of the genteel voice, Elizabeth jumped. Balthier leaned against a support beam, watching her with sharp, calculating eyes.

"It hurt me to see him that way. He's so gentle most of the time." she cried, a fresh well of tears opening up.

"Can you blame him? He's going through a lot right now." Balthier said, pushing himself from the beam and walking to kneel opposite of her. He took her hands in his, covering them with his long fingers. Elizabeth pulled back initially; his hands were like ice. She could only imagine how they would have been if he were truly alive. Balthier was surprised, too. Her hands were so hot! He hadn't realized how cold his body was. It made his empty heart ache for Fran.

"He loves you, Elizabeth. A blind man could see it. You have to understand why he's so angry. He is afraid of leaving you." Balthier said seriously, looking into her watery eyes. He released his grip on her hands, unconsciously rubbing his own together to retain the living warmth he'd so briefly felt. He turned his back to her, preparing to go back up to the deck, but paused.

"Will came here for you, you know. It wasn't just because of Jack's harebrained scheme to take back the _Pearl_. We didn't hold guns to his head and threaten him to make him come. It was voluntary." he said. Elizabeth was silent.

"And what of you, Balthier? Why did you come?" the question caught him off guard. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply.

"I… I thought that I could find a way to go home if I came. It's far, far away from here. I don't know if I'll ever make it, but maybe there's still a chance." Balthier answered after a time, before leaving the cabin. The light streaming down the hatch painted him with the colors of death, but then he was gone. Will came down shortly after he left, watching the skeletal figure vanish into the darkness of the rigging, like a ghost.

"What did he say?" the blacksmith asked suspiciously. Hopefully the sky pirate hadn't been stealing her away with pretty words. Elizabeth smiled, sweeping forward to give him a sincere hug.

"He told me to understand." she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

* * *

"_It's the _Pearl_!_" Balthier's voice carried easily from the crow's nest (his favorite place on the whole ship) to the deck. Emerging from the fog that seemed to follow her wherever she went, the _Black Pearl_'s distinctive silhouette jutted like a spire above the horizon line.

"It can't be!" Elizabeth grabbed Will's arm. "The _Interceptor _is the fastest ship in the Caribbean!"

"Not the _Interceptor_, love." Jack pushed past them, nearly ripping an extendable spyglass in half as he pulled it out to inspect the ship pursuing them. "The _Pearl_. Why do you think no one's caught her?" He cursed as he spotted oars sliding out along the pirate ship's hull.

"Barbossa really wants to get a hold of you," Jack said, snapping the spyglass back to its miniature position and stowing it in a pocket. "He's run out the sweeps."

"Dump whatever we don't need! We're going to need all the speed we can get to lose her!" Elizabeth shouted. Jack simply sat down on the poop deck, crossing his legs.

"We can't lose her." he said calmly, leaning back against the helm.

"But we can try." Will dumped a load of grappling hooks over the side, then stopped Marty, the short man, from releasing a cannon into the sea. "We might need that." he said.

Despite their efforts, the _Black Pearl_ still gained on them. Anamaria took the helm, pushing Jack out of the way with a none-too-gentle shove of her foot. Elizabeth scrambled up to join her, looking backward at the ship that was too close for comfort.

"It was a good plan," Anamaria said, with a resigned look. "But in the end, it didn't work."

Elizabeth still had other ideas, though.

"Drop the anchor on the starboard side!" she shouted. "We can use the element of surprise to ambush them!"

They heard the familiar sound of cannon fire. Seconds later, a splash threw water onto the deck, soaking a few crewmembers still trying to lighten the ship's load.

"You're daft!" Anamaria shrieked, but her eyes were desperate. She was willing to try anything.

"Load the cannons!" Will yelled over the chaos.

"With what?" Gibbs asked, throwing his hands up in frustration. "The idiots just threw all our cannonballs overboard!"

"Anything! Everything!" Will answered. "We have to fight!"

That was how Joshamee Gibbs found himself loading cutlery from the ship's scullery and kitchens into the cannons. He took an exasperated gulp of his rum filled flask to calm his jangling nerves, but Marty snatched it from him and shoved it in with the rest of the silverware.

The anchor dropped with a resounding thud, ripping wood from the _Interceptor_'s sides as she listed hard, swinging to face the _Pearl_ with her broadsides. The pirate ship responded in turn, cannons sliding out of their recesses.

"Fire!" three different voices cracked over the waves.

Balthier flung himself out of the rigging, where he had been picking off the pirates onboard the _Black_ _Pearl_ with a musket, as it was obliterated by some kind of bola-type cannonball. The mast fell with a groan, and to his horror, he found himself tangled in the ropes, dangling forty feet above the deck.

He gasped. "I always loved being in the air, but not like this!" he wailed, somehow finding something humorous to say despite his dire situation. A few of the pirates on the _Black Pearl_ spotted him, turning the tables and taking pot shots at him. He winced as a few bullets went straight through him, opening holes in places that were most certainly lethal. He'd never get used to this undead business. There was an especially loud bang and a lancing pain in his head: suddenly his entire body gave an involuntary twitch. Balthier's vision blurred and darkened for a moment and he went limp, hanging in precarious balance from the ropes and wondering what had happened. When his vision and mobility returned, he felt his forehead, and suppressed a shudder when his fingers encountered a rapidly closing bullet hole. He'd just been shot in the head.

It taught him one thing; even though the zombie pirates were supposedly invulnerable, a good strike to the head could put them briefly out of commission. Balthier drew Danjuro and slashed through the ropes around his waist and legs, then took a sickening drop to the deck. He landed awkwardly, suppressing a pained snarl as his ankle dislocated with a snap. Balthier's head, a little tender from recently being shot, smacked against the ground, stunning him momentarily. When he became conscious again, he gave his ankle a deft twist back in place, and hobbling to his feet, he shook the stars from his eyes.

The pirates had boarded the _Interceptor,_ engaging the crew in a battle that only had one outcome. Silently, dead men tumbled overboard into the sea, some twitching in their death throes. Balthier engaged swords with a pirate who seemed awfully familiar.

"Well, if it isn't the little bird trapped in prison. I thought I busted yer arm." Koehler said with a rotten toothed leer.

"It's not busted now, sea scum!" Balthier snapped, delivering a punch between the dark skinned pirate's eyes. The force of the blow, coupled with the extra hardness of a few rings on his hand, knocked Koehler out. He sank to the deck like a boned fish.

Elizabeth's scream pierced the air.

"Will!" she shrieked, pulling at the fallen grate that covered the trapdoor leading below deck the mast had fallen across it, blocking it. Balthier skidded to a halt beside her, peering between the grate to see Will's face.

"Lift the grate, hurry!" Will shouted, trying to push a length of wood up and raise it himself. The loud thud of pirate boots on wood alerted him that Balthier and Elizabeth's time to help him was drawing short. When both of them looked at something he couldn't see, most likely the skeleton crew, his suspicions were confirmed. Balthier shut his eyes, muttering something under his breath, and faded from view. Elizabeth blinked at the empty air next to her.

"Stupid pirates!" she growled angrily when she spotted Jack chasing a monkey between the ships. Then the crewmates of the _Black Pearl_ grabbed her and dragged her away, kicking and screaming.

"Elizabeth!" Will cried, pushing harder. Balthier's voice sounded above him.

"Stop wasting your energy!" the voice growled.

"Balthier?" he asked, trying to see the sky pirate.

"I'm right here." something tapped on the other side of the grate, just above his head. "I'm invisible."

"Help me!" Will said, swimming closer to the grate. The water in the bottom of the ship was rising. Soon, if the grate wasn't lifted, he would drown.

The grate shuddered as it was tugged with imperceptible hands. He could hear Balthier grunting as he exerted all of his strength to pull it up, but to no avail. Then the wood lying on top shook, but there was a heavy thump as Balthier sat down with a groan. It was just too much.

"Use a spell!" Will called. "Melt the grate or something!"

"I'll hit you! You're too close!" Balthier said, struggling to keep the panic from his voice. "The pirates have loaded the forward powder magazine in the ship and are going to use it to blow us up. We don't have much time!"

Will wormed his fingers through the grate. He didn't come out here to save Elizabeth just to die like this, so far away from her. Cold, invisible fingers brushed against his knuckle, alerting him to the presence of Balthier, who seemed to have readjusted his grip.

"There's a hole not too far away from you." Balthier said. "Swim down and to the left. Keep going, and you'll find it. It's the only way, now go!" Will did as he was told, and Balthier stood, his work done. The spell wore off, and Balthier dove into the sea, swimming down toward the hole he'd told Will to go to. The blacksmith's hand reached through the gap, and Balthier grabbed it, pulling Will through and propelling him away from the ship, just as the _Interceptor_ exploded with an earsplitting din. Charred wreckage rained down around them, some of it coming dangerously close, and Balthier pulled Will under him, using his own body as a shield. His shoulders were impaled with a mess of wooden shrapnel, but he brushed them off. His vest was ruined beyond repair. Will resurfaced when the danger had passed.

"Are you alright?" he asked, picking a few stray splinters from Balthier's back.

"I've been better, but it's better if I've been stabbed than you." the undead sky pirate answered.

They swam toward the _Black Pearl_, though personally, that was the last thing Balthier would have wished to do. He didn't want to willingly deliver himself and Will to the enemy, but they couldn't just keep swimming. At one point, Will would get tired and drown. They climbed onto the sides of the _Black Pearl_, just as once again, Elizabeth began screaming. Will, ever the hero, jumped onto the deck.

"Let her go!" Will shouted. Barbossa was dangling the pirate medallion from a finger, stroking his pet monkey, Jack.

"You again?" He sounded mildly annoyed. "Here to save your girl? You don't know what you're doing." Will stalked forward, pointing a pistol (borrowed from Balthier) at the Captain's face.

"Let her go." Will insisted. Barbossa's eyes narrowed.

"Go on, do it! What are you playing at?" he chuckled. "You've only got one shot, and we can't die."

Jack waved, attracting Will's attention. "Don't do anything stupid…" he repeated it over and over like a mantra.

Will thought for a moment, before jumping back onto the railing, and jamming the pistol under his own chin. Jack wilted.

"Like that." he muttered, slinking back into the crowd. Koehler and Twigg gripped his arms.

"You ain't getting away so easy this time, Sparrow." Twigg growled.

"Who are you?" Barbossa asked. "Why should I care if you shoot yerself?"

"He's no one!" Jack shouted. "Really, you should just let him go and—"

"I'm the son of Bootstrap Bill Turner. His blood runs through my veins." Will shouted brashly. "Do as I say or I'll pull this trigger and be lost to Davy Jones!"

"Name your terms then, Turner." Barbossa said mockingly. "Just remember, you're ours when we fulfill 'em."

"Elizabeth goes free!" he shouted. Barbossa rolled his eyes.

"Yes, we know that one," he said scathingly. "Anything else?"

Will thought for a moment. Jack pointed to himself, trying to catch Will's eye.

"The crew! They are not to be harmed." he added, not understanding Jack's intentions. The pirate looked murderous as Barbossa stepped forward, his eyes glinting with cunning.

"Agreed. Now then, where's that friend of yours, the wild one?" Barbossa asked. Will realized he was referring to Balthier. Barbossa continued. "Did he go insane again and jump into the sea?"

"I don't know what happened to him." Will said truthfully. When he glanced down toward the ship's sides, he could not see Balthier there.

"Shame. After we use your blood, we'll have to go and find him!" Barbossa said, turning away. "Take Turner down and tie him up!"

* * *

An hour later, the _Black Pearl _rested off the side of an island, Elizabeth stood on the end of a plank, and the pirates hooted and jeered at her.

"Walk the plank! There ye go, poppet!"

She walked to the edge of the plank, hiking up the maroon voluminous dress and peering into the water.

"Barbossa, you liar! You swore she'd go free!" Will shouted, trying to push forward. Twigg grabbed him by the throat, holding him still.

"Don't belittle me honor, rat! It's your own fault she's here, because you failed to specify when or where we let her go!" Barbossa snarled. Koehler slid a gag between Will's teeth, though he resisted fiercely, and shoved him into the laughing crowd.

"I'll be taking that dress back." he said, gesturing toward Elizabeth. Her face turned red with rage, but she still tore it off, amidst whistles and cat calls, and flung it at Barbossa with disdain.

"Goes with your black heart." she said, her lip curling.

Barbossa smiled, placing the dress against his cheek. "It's still warm." he said, tossing the dress to the rest of the crew, who laughed. For a moment, Elizabeth felt a stab of pity, remembering how Balthier had rubbed his hands together the night before after holding her hand, trying to hold in the heat. She turned back to the waves. They were so blue…

"Too long!" The huge boson of the _Black Pearl_ stomped his foot on the plank, shaking it. With a scream, Elizabeth plunged into the water, gasping and splashing. Barbossa turned back to Jack, putting an amicable hand about his shoulder and leading him to the plank next.

"I'd hoped we were past all this," Jack pleaded, his face paling.

"Oh please, didn't you notice? This be the same little island we made you governor of on our last trip!" Barbossa said.

"I did notice." Jack replied, the cogs in his mind turning.

"Perhaps you can conjure a miraculous escape. Sea turtles, eh?" Barbossa snorted.

"Last time, you left me a pistol with one shot!" Jack shouted, despite the sword Barbossa was now resting against his collar bone.

"Ah, by the gods! Bring me Jack's pistol!" A pirate handed him the desired affects, and Barbossa dangled them in front of Jack's face.

"A gentleman would give us a pair of pistols, seeing that there are two of us." Jack said glibly.

"It'll be one pistol as before, and you can be a gentleman and shoot the lady." Barbossa laughed, throwing the pistol and dagger overboard. Jack twitched and threw himself into the water. The pirates were so caught up in their own mirth that none of them noticed when there was an extra splash. The _Black Pearl_ turned hard, sailing away into the mists that were always present about it.

* * *

Yay again?


	6. Welcome to the Caribbean

Yay! I'm almost done! I won't say how many possible chapters are left, 'cuz I don't know myself, but I will say there is going to be a possible sequel, just because I loved writing this so much. Thank you, **ElTangoDeRoxanne**, who has written a review for every chapter and I don't need to look at my reviews page to remember how to spell your username anymore. Here is a plate of cyber cookies.

Well, again. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or Final Fantasy XII.

* * *

Jack and Elizabeth splashed ashore, Jack cutting his bonds with his dagger and tossing the rope into the sand. He turned around to watch the _Black Pearl_ go, anger rolling in every syllable of his voice.

"That's the second time I've had to watch that man sail away in _my _ship," Jack said, then spun on his heel and marched into the scant palm tree wood.

"Aren't you going to try to escape?" Elizabeth cried, chasing after him.

"To what point and purpose, girly?" Jack snapped, turning on her. "Unless you have a rudder and some sails in that sheet you wear— which is highly unlikely— Mr. Turner will be dead long before you ever reach him." He knocked on the wood of a tree, and took three large steps away from it.

"You're Captain Jack Sparrow!" Elizabeth exploded. "You always say that you're _the _Captain Jack Sparrow as if that makes everything right!" she went on to list various feats he'd done. "Are you the pirate I've read about or not? How did you escape last time?"

Jack placed two grimy hands on her shoulders. "Listen, love. Last time, I was only here a grand total of three days. Not a week, or two weeks. Three. Days."

He jumped up and down on the sand, and a hidden trapdoor groaned under his weight. "And last time, there were rumrunners and smugglers who used this island as a cache, unbeknownst to Barbossa. Though, from the looks of things, they've long been out of business. No doubt thanks to your _fiancé_, Commodore Norrington." Jack continued, looking up at her with a smirk. Elizabeth's face colored.

"He's not my…!"

"Oh, when I was in Port Royal, I heard he'd proposed to you." Jack said, selecting two oblong bottles of rum from the cache and climbing the ladder back out. Elizabeth decided to change the subject as he handed her a bottle.

"So that's the adventure of _Captain _Jack Sparrow. You just sat on a beach drinking rum." she bit out.

Jack spread his arms. "Welcome to the Caribbean, love."

* * *

"What, in the name of Ivalice, is going on here?" Balthier's voice snapped at them, disappointment written all over his face. Then again, it was hard to tell whether he was angry or finding the situation humorous; hard bones and little skin could only do so much for expressing facial emotion. He'd swum to the island and waited for the Vanish spell to wear off as night had fallen, then followed the duo to find them singing and dancing around a fire drinking rum. _Rum!_ It was an insult to someone who could no longer eat or drink.

At first, Jack was too drunk to recognize the voice or the well-dressed skeleton that stood before them. He drew his dagger and pushed Elizabeth behind him.

"Stay back, luv, this could get dirty." he slurred, wobbling back and forth. "And you stay back too!" he jabbed the knife in Balthier's direction. "I don't know who on Barbossa's crew you are, but you've come to finish the job and kill me, haven't you?"

Balthier took two steps forward. "Jack, it's me, Balthier! Hard to recognize at the moment, I know, but really! I thought you'd be trying to get out of here." he tried to reason with the drunk pirate, but the words fell on deaf ears. Jack still brandished the dagger threateningly.

"You're just pretending to be Balthy. You're doing a good job of it, you sound just like him, I swear. But it's time to cut this little farce short." Jack staggered the rest of the distance between them and stabbed his dagger into the place where Balthier's heart should have been. Balthier pushed him away angrily, his bony frame belying his strength, and pulled the dagger from where it wobbled, stuck, between his ribs.

"You're drunk, Jack. I told you, it's _Balthier_. And you know that stabbing me won't work." he said, swatting the branch, which Jack tried to use to brain him, away. "Or hitting me with blunt implements." When Jack still persisted, Balthier got somewhat tough.

"Sleep, and let us be," he said, casting the spell. Jack took it full force, and collapsed the ground snoring, the rum bottle rolling out of his hands. Balthier picked it up, sniffed it, and then hurled it to the ground in frustration, where the brittle bottle shattered. Elizabeth watched him warily.

"Is he really asleep?" she asked, nodding to Jack. Balthier looked at her, breathing hard.

"Yes." he replied grumpily, pacing creakily up and down the sandbar. "It's good to see you're still mostly sober." he said. "Do you have a plan for getting out of here?"

"I do, actually, and I'm going to need your help. Come on." Elizabeth ordered, staggering to her feet before collapsing with a little grunt.

"Perhaps you are not as sober as you seem," Balthier said with a lipless smile. It was a disturbing sight. He held up his hands, forming an Esuna spell, and cast it on Elizabeth, who looked shocked as all the effects of the alcohol were negated. Balthier, on the other hand, was not expecting backlash.

He gave a low cry as the spell, as soon as it was released, burned him. His hands, or rather his bones, appeared as if they were being eaten away by acid. The pain traveled up his arms, and he clutched himself as if doing so could somehow make the pain go away. When it finally did, he could only lay on the sand, gasping.

"What happened to you? What did you do to me?" Elizabeth hurried to his side and fell to her knees, trying to be helpful and taking his burned hands in hers. The bone was smooth, but the places where the spell had licked at him were rough like coarse sandpaper. He hissed when she ran her fingers over the spot.

"I tried to use some White Magick to make you feel better from the alcohol," Balthier managed to grit out between labored breaths, "but after I released it, some of it rebounded, and it _hurt_ me."

"Why? It's supposed to help, isn't it?" Elizabeth asked. Balthier sat up, sand falling from between his vertebrae and through holes in his rotting skin, and looked at his corroded hands.

"I've heard of something like this before. It's called Reverse, but I've also heard tell of something called the Zombie Effect. White Magick harms, Black Magick heals." he gave a bitter laugh. "I suppose I should have foreseen it, I'm aligned with Darkness now."

It felt strange to cast Dark on oneself. After making sure Elizabeth was a good distance away, he'd cast the spell, watching purple shadow reach out of the ground and surround him, but leaving him unscathed and possibly feeling better than before, though there still seemed to be scars of sorts on his hands, an impossibly fine spider web of white lines running over his palms and up his arms. After ascertaining the state of his health, Elizabeth motioned toward the trees, breaking into a run.

"Come on. We'll have to do this all before he wakes up."

"Do what?" Balthier trudged after her. "Jack's dead to the world. He won't be waking up anytime soon."

"We'll build a signal fire." Elizabeth said. "The entire royal navy garrison is most likely looking for me. There's no way they won't see it if we fuel the fire with rum."

Once they were under the cover of the palm fronds and Balthier appeared normal, she seemed more comfortable with him, even going as far to grab his hand to guide him to the spot of the rumrunner's secret cache. Balthier soaked the moment in. She was still as warm as before, her hand hot in his own, frigid grip. Fran would be warmer still, and she would sing to him, stroking her hand with two inch long claws through his hair, letting her burning fingers slip down his neck.

The world he was in was a prison. He was caged in his own flesh, a soul unable to find peace, wandering with an avarice that all the jewels in the world could not fill. He was sure that no matter how much love Fran could give him, he would always want more. He could never be sated. And he was tortured, his stomach constantly gnawing at the inside of his body. He'd only been cursed for two days and already he wanted food, his parched throat a desert that never received water. And these pirates had been going on for ten years; how they must feel! It was worse for him, though. He was actually wanted; it wasn't "pleasurable company" as Barbossa put it, but people actually valued him. Unlike Barbossa, whose cruel black heart had gone from dry to shriveled, Balthier's heart had bled when it stopped, weeping at its loss.

"—thier… _Balthier!_" he started when he realized Elizabeth was trying to get his attention.

"I beg your pardon. I wasn't listening." Balthier gave her a slight bow with his hand over his heart, one of the habits of the gentry that still carried into his sky pirate ways. Apparently the ladies found it endearing, and it still held true for Elizabeth, who blushed and waved it away.

"It's nothing. I just need you to help me carry this crate to the beach near the fire, that's all." she pointed to a crate full of clinking bottles. Balthier obliged, half dragging, half carrying the wooden box until they'd reached the campfire, which seemed on the verge of burning out until Elizabeth grabbed a bottle from the crate in Balthier's arms and flung it in.

There was an explosive bang. Jack twitched in his sleep, rolling over and mumbling something suspiciously like, "When I get the _Pearl _back, first I'll…" before trailing off into another rumbling snore. How he slept through the noise of shattering glass and belching flame was incredible. Balthier had been right; Jack really was dead to the world, and remained so until high noon the next day.

* * *

"Balthier? That you?" Jack asked groggily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. "When did you get here?" Balthier craned his head to look behind him at Jack without having to get up from where he was sitting on the beach.

"I got here last night, but I think you were too drunk to remember it. You stabbed me and tried to beat me with a tree branch." he answered.

"How did you get here? I didn't see you on the _Pearl_ with Will." Jack picked at a scab on the back of his hand idly.

"Vanish is a valuable spell rendering the caster or their target invisible. It was simple for me to do so and hide on the _Black Pearl_ without ever being caught."

Jack looked at him, scowling when the scab ripped off. "If you'd stayed with Will, you could have gotten your curse lifted last night."

"And then I would have been killed when they didn't need me anymore. That's not my priority, Jack." Balthier said, turning back to watching the sea.

"That's right; you're trying to get home. Any ideas? You obviously can't sail there, mate." Jack said meditatively. A loud blast sounded behind them, and he jumped.

"Where's the cannon?" he cried, getting to his feet with a heave and whirling to look behind him. His face was one of outrage and shock when he saw the tiny forest fire Elizabeth had started, but it turned into horror when he realized what it was she stoked the flames with.

"No, no, no!" Jack shouted, trying to stop her. "What are you doing? You're burning the food, the shade, and… the _rum_! Why is the rum gone, Elizabeth, why?"

Elizabeth sneered. "It's a contemptible drink that turns even the most respectable men into inebriated scoundrels!"

"I already am a scoundrel! What do you care?" Jack retorted, trying to salvage some of the liquor.

"_I don't!_" Elizabeth half-screamed. "That signal is the most visible thing around. My father is looking for me, and we're going to help him find me!"

"And paint ourselves up for other pirates to find us? I think not!" Jack answered, attempting to shovel sand into the flames, but they were too fierce for him to get close enough to put the main fire out.

"_How_ could you let her _do _this?" Jack shouted at Balthier, who just sat there and let them argue.

"I told you Jack, I've got my priorities. Even though I can sit here and do nothing, and still outlast the both of you on this island, that's not helping me get back to Ivalice." Balthier said mildly.

"That's just selfish, mate!" Jack whined.

"Must I remind you that I, too, am a pirate, though a gentleman sky pirate at that, and therefore am highly motivated to do whatever benefits me the most?" Balthier asked harshly, his demeanor changing. His eyes, normally glittering with humor at some untold joke, were black with malice.

"In Ivalice, I wasn't the most notorious sky pirate for nothing. I was the dread pirate, Captain Balthier of the _Strahl_! I had most of Balfonheim under my thumb and connections to the royal families of three different nations. My allegiance belongs to no one, and I serve no one. I go wherever there is benefit for me, and _sitting on a beach drinking rum does not benefit me_." he hissed, his face white with rage.

"Challenging a den of undead pirates by your Berserk lonesome doesn't sound so beneficial to me." Jack drawled, unperturbed by the other side of Balthier he was seeing. Being marooned on an island tended to draw out the darkness in a person. It just seemed Balthier had a bit more darkness than he let on.

"One must change with the times, Sparrow. And this is one of those times." Balthier replied dismissively, and stalked toward the water, standing just beyond the reach of the waves. He was silent after that, and just stood there with his hands on his hips, watching the water go in and out. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Elizabeth took a few steps, as if to follow him, but Jack grabbed her arm. "Let him be, Balthier needs some cool down time." Jack seemed to at least have the presence of mind not to aggravate the sky pirate further by calling him unwelcome nicknames, and possibly end up getting maimed. "Answer _my_ questions. Why is the rum gone?" he asked again.

"Just you watch, Sparrow. In an hour or two, there will be white sails on that horizon." Elizabeth plopped down on the beach. Jack clenched his fists angrily, and actually considered shooting her, but decided against it, sitting down next to her. He shot a glance at Balthier, who seemed to have calmed sufficiently that his face was no longer pale, but the sky pirate made no move to join them until later, and he sank slowly into the sand. He'd changed some how, both Jack and Elizabeth could tell. He no longer seemed as energetic and exuded a tired air, though he still looked young and there was no noticeable difference when he was up and moving about. It was sitting quietly that was unbecoming of him. Jack spoke first, clearing his throat.

"Sorry 'bout earlier, Balthier. It was… selfish… of _me_ to take away _your _hope of getting back to Ivalice by thinking I could just sit here and drink rum for the rest of me life." the words came out slowly and awkwardly. It was clear Jack wasn't used to being the one making apologies.

"It's okay." Balthier said glumly, playing with his bracelets. "You're right. I'm not as selfish as people think me to be, or even I think I am. Self-centered people don't charge into pirate lairs by themselves for others."

Besides being homesick, he also wanted a bath and a change of clothes. His current outfit was a mess from being repeatedly stabbed through, shot, or burned. Balthier hated looking anything less than immaculate.

"I told you so." Elizabeth said suddenly when a ship appeared on the horizon, the Union Jack fluttering from the mast. Jack rolled his eyes and snorted.

* * *

"Why aren't we going to save Will?" Elizabeth's indignant cry could be heard all over the _Dauntless_. "They're going to kill him!" Governor Swann turned to face her as he pushed by Balthier and Jack, both flanked by two guards.

"Young William's fate is regrettable, as is his decision to return to piracy." he said, before brushing past her to go into his cabin.

"He did it to rescue me! I owe him my life, father." Elizabeth chased after him.

"Just as you owed Jack and that cutpurse over there your life and they took advantage of it." Gov. Swann retorted.

"_That cutpurse _is named Balthier, a… a good man." Elizabeth said. "A cutpurse is a small thing compared to what is about to be lost. You have to let it go."

Jack saw his opportunity. "If I can put in _my_ opinion, the _Pearl _was almost scuppered after our little navy skirmish, and she won't make good time, no matter how fast she is. Imagine, the last real pirate threat in the Caribbean gone, thanks to you." he said, trying to goad Norrington into taking after the ship. "How can you pass it up? It's too good to be true!"

"By remembering that I serve others, not my self, Mr. Sparrow." the Commodore said smartly. Ah, there it was again. The whole theme of the day seemed to be "don't be selfish."

"Consider it for _me_. As a wedding gift." Elizabeth said desperately. Norrington paused to look down at her on his way to the poop deck.

"Am I to take this… as an acceptance to my proposal?" he asked. Elizabeth nodded.

"Yes." she whispered. The Governor looked overjoyed.

"I love weddings! Drinks all around!" Jack shouted. Balthier grabbed him in a firm headlock, muttering into his ear,

"Do I need remind you what drinks do to you? As much as I'd like some, you can't seem to handle your liquor without some kind of repercussion." he warned.

Jack drooped, and Balthier released him. "I know, 'clap him in irons now,' right?" Jack meekly held out his hands.

"Not you," Norrington said. "You're going to be at the helm with Mr. Murtogg and Mr. Mullroy and guide us to the Isla de Muerta."

"Ah, my two favorite mates!" Jack said, recognizing the fat and thin soldiers from Port Royal.

"Take _Balthier _down to the brig. I see no need of his services." Norrington said with a smirk.

Balthier allowed himself to be jostled below deck and into a relatively nice ship prison, as far as brigs went. He was thrust inside and guarded by the two men who brought him there. Elizabeth came down shortly afterward.

"You can go," she said, dismissing the guards. "He can't get out without the key, which I don't have."

They hesitated at first, but left. She sat down on a crate on the other side of the bars, watching him for a moment.

"Sorry about that." she said quietly over the creak of the ship. Balthier shrugged.

"He's only doing his duty, and in his eyes, I'm a thief. And if you haven't picked up on it, thievery sells me quite short." he said, a hint of laughter coming back into his golden eyes.

"Well yes, I gathered that from your little speech on the island." Elizabeth returned.

Balthier rattled the cell bars. The gaps between them were very big, wide enough for him to reach his entire arm through. A very faulty design.

"Oh well. This cage can't hold me." he said, sitting down on the floor. "I could get out of here anytime I wanted, even with those two goons guarding me."

"Using Magick?" she asked suspiciously. Balthier shook his head.

"You underestimate me. I'm not usually prone to using Magick, because where I come from, it's so common that most people can counter it easily. I like guns and swords, though these navy types tend to like confiscating those objects when you're in prison. They forgot to take my pouches this time around, though." he remarked. "That reminds me…" he began to dig through said pouches.

Elizabeth frowned. "Do you happen to have lock picking materials in there?" she asked. Balthier didn't even look up.

"Yes, I have a few slivers of metal I use for basic locks like these. In my country, there aren't many locks like this, though. They're so much more complex." Balthier suddenly bit back a growl of pain and turned back to her, juggling a small, pearly white ball between his hands.

"Hurry, hurry, take this." he managed to hand it to her, and fell back, licking his palms, which were an angry red.

"What is this?" Elizabeth asked, holding the ball up to her eye.

"It's a Holy mote. Holy is a powerful White Magick that is devastating to creatures of Darkness. I don't think it can kill those pirates, but it can definitely make them think twice before leaping back into the fray. Just holding it hurts me." Balthier explained, showing her his burned hands. "I'm going to have so many scars when this is done."

Elizabeth slipped it into the pocket in her dress.

"Thank you." she whispered, and reached through the bars to touch his face. His skin was just as cold as she remembered it, and she felt no breath on her hand. She let her hand fall to cover his heart, but his chest was empty.

"What I said earlier on the _Interceptor_, about being like the cursed pirates…" she began, and Balthier frowned.

"I remember."

"I was wrong. You aren't like them at all." His frown slipped into a semblance of his old grin.

"Today seems to be a day for apologizing, hmm?" he asked slyly, and Elizabeth gave an embarrassed laugh.

"It does."

Balthier turned serious again. "I have to get to that cave. If I don't, when Norrington attacks, Barbossa's crew will still be immortal, and they'll just massacre the navy. And as long as I'm still free, they have no reason to keep from killing Will." he said.

Elizabeth's face turned to one of horror. "We have to get you out of here."

"I'm afraid that would be impossible at the moment. What good will it do? We're still leagues from the Isla de Muerta." Balthier argued. "Just come back when we're there, alright? And don't forget about the Holy mote."

"Thank you… for all your help." Elizabeth said, before climbing the stairs to the deck. Balthier smiled as he watched her go.

"Sweet, sweet Elizabeth," he whispered, shaking his head. "You think I am doing this all for you?"

* * *

"We're here!" Elizabeth cried, bursting below deck. To her surprise, the door to Balthier's cell was open and empty. The two soldiers who had been guarding him were each slumped on the floor with livid bruises on their heads, knocked out. It seemed he'd reached through the bars and slammed their heads together, then picked the lock and escaped. She stepped inside the cell, searching to see if he'd left any message for her, but the cell was absolutely bare.

* * *

Balthier swam quickly. From the sounds inside the cave, the pirates were about ready to cut Will's throat. He hid himself in the shadows as Jack stormed in from another direction, dreadlocks flying.

"Pardon my intrusion, but—" he began, but Barbossa cut him off.

"You _again_? What did you use, and don't tell me 'twas sea turtles." the captain barked.

"It wasn't sea turtles. It was the royal navy, and the _Dauntless _is now waiting for you to lift the curse and come out of this cave so that they can blast you to pieces." Jack said smugly.

"What do I care that they're waiting? We can't lift the curse until we've got your insane little friend, and heaven knows where he's at now." Barbossa retorted, shoving Will's head down over the chest and dropping the medallion in.

"Actually, he's on board the _Dauntless _languishing in the brig." Jack said. At least he thought he was telling the truth; last he'd seen the man, Balthier had been in the brig chatting it up with Elizabeth.

"Is he, now? And why shouldn't I kill Turner and just get your friend and kill him afterward?"

"Because I have his coin all bloodied up, right here." Jack flashed a gold medallion in front of them, tucking it back into his pocket.

Balthier frowned. When had Jack gotten that? He checked his pouch where he'd stashed the coin. It was still there… that meant Jack was bluffing. It seemed to convince Barbossa, though.

"Jack, you sly dog! Very well! Gentlemen, take a walk! Don't stop until all of them are dead!" Barbossa ordered, and the cave emptied until only Jack, Will, Barbossa and a few others remained. Balthier watched as Jack examined a rather interesting statuette made of pure gold.

"You've certainly got an eye for treasure, Captain." Jack said. Barbossa suddenly took out his pistol, aiming it at Jack.

"Aye, that I do. And I've also got an eye for people I don't need anymore. Good bye, Jack Sparrow." Barbossa fired. Jack ducked, and the bullet missed, shattering a crystal goblet and showering him with glass shards. Just as Barbossa took aim again, Will pushed into him with his shoulder, since his hands were bound, and the next shot went wide. The pirates remaining drew their blades, rushing to subdue him, and that was when Balthier made his move.

He leaped from his hiding spot, throwing Blindga upon the pirates circling Will. They stopped, clawing at their faces and crying out in confusion. Balthier took advantage of their pause and, moving with Haste improved reflexes, severed the heads of two of the pirates and kicked them away, before slicing off the arms of the next pair. He ignored the bodies blundering about looking for their heads, aiming the next attack right at Barbossa.

Barbossa was fast, even for Balthier, who was under the influence of Haste. He parried the sword strike of Lohengrin and blocked Danjuro in the same movement, though the dagger made it within inches of his neck. Balthier back flipped into the water, dodging a swing meant to cleave him in half at the waist, and prepared an Oil spell.

The spell missed when one of the headless bodies knocked into him, taking the spell instead of Barbossa. Balthier cursed, shoving the slick skeleton away from him and casting Fire, burning the bones to a crisp. They cracked and collapsed, a head screaming in pain somewhere in the cave.

Then a sword tip jutted from Balthier's stomach. He tried to twist and see who was attacking him, but a punch snapped his neck, twisting his head at an odd angle. His vision swam as pain buzzed like an angry hornet's nest in his brain and spine. Unable to function properly, he slid to the ground, falling off the sword and into a tide pool. Balthier could see Barbossa standing over him, grotesque in the moonlight, laughing. The pirate captain placed a foot on his chest, bearing down with all his weight, until with a sickening snap, his rib cage caved in.

Balthier's body went through a spasm of agony, fingers he could no longer control clawing into the ground, his feet flailing.

"There you are!" Barbossa laughed as Balthier went limp. He dragged the sky pirate from the water. "Jack has yer coin if that's what you were here for."

Jack's eyes were wide as he stared at Balthier, who blinked at him weakly. "Actually, I don't." Jack said, before flinging a statue at Barbossa as hard as he could. The captain let go of Balthier to ward the flying statue off. Somehow, Balthier managed to reach up and snap his head back in place before he fell to the ground, unable to fight for the moment. Barbossa, momentarily forgetting about his victim, ran after Jack, roaring a challenge. Jack darted around columns of stone, using his smaller size and speed to his advantage. Barbossa did not bother running; he was waiting for Jack to get tired. After all, he had all the time in the world.

* * *

… I think I'm moving into the last few chapters…


	7. Reunion

Welcome back, and to the final chapter of _When Pirate and Pirate Meet_. I'm glad I wrote this, and **I have a sequel planned. **So if you are interested, stay tuned. Thank you to my reviewer, **ElTangoDeRoxanne**, who reviewed every chapter and said if I didn't write the sequel that I said I would, they would cry. I don't like it when people cry, so it will be there!

**While this fict is now technically finished, I will post one more chapter after this: a preview for the sequel.**

So keep a weather eye if you're interested.

See you later!

TGD

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or Final Fantasy XII.

* * *

Jack's breathe wheezed in his chest. He could only run so much, and was running out of energy. Barbossa's monstrous shadow stalked him, sword outstretched, laughter echoing off the cave walls. Will was engaged with three pirates at once. They seemed to be able to see again after Balthier had lost consciousness, and were doing a good job of backing the blacksmith into a corner. Will grabbed a golden urn from the ledge behind him, shoving it over a pirate's head and giving it a good clang with his sword. The pirate dropped, stunned. Then he maneuvered himself closer to Balthier, who lay prone in the ground. It was interesting to watch as his ribs, which had been crushed under Barbossa's boot, stitched themselves back together. After they had healed enough to be functional, Balthier came to, giving a low groan, sitting up and massaging his chest. The clash of swords reminded him of where he was, and he sprang to his feet, slipping on treasure as he made a dash for the open chest of Cortes.

He fumbled for his coin, knowing this might be the only chance he got to put it in, and rubbed it against one of the many bloodstains on his clothes. He dropped the coin in just as Jack fled toward him, Barbossa hot on his heels. Jack hid behind Balthier, intending to use him as a shield of sorts. Barbossa tried to get in a swipe around him, and he performed a one-handed block with Lohengrin and stabbed at the pirate captain with Danjuro when he got too close. Barbossa howled as Balthier put out his eye with a well aimed hit.

"Intending to get all broken again, boy? I'm surprised you heal so quick." he growled, blood running like tears from his empty eye socket. Balthier jumped backward, casting Dark as he moved. His ribs, which had been half healed, rapidly regenerated, and the dull pain in his neck faded away. He wondered how much Mist Energy he had left. From the fatigue that dragged at his body, it couldn't be much. He would have to start relying on his skills of playing dirty, but unfortunately, Barbossa seemed to have the same idea.

He grabbed for the nearest person still killable, in this case Jack, and held his sword to his throat. Apparently, he thought that Balthier was the better swordsman— and it was entirely possible, Balthier _had_ been a judge— and had turned to the hostage taking strategy.

"One move toward me and I'll slit his throat out." Barbossa shouted.

"You'll do it anyway!" Jack moaned, breathing as shallowly as possible to avoid cutting his own throat.

"Now, you're not really in the position to be making jokes now, are you?" Barbossa threatened.

"_Stop right there!_" Elizabeth's voice rang over the chaos. Barbossa turned away from Jack to give her a yellow toothed leer.

"If it isn't Miss 'Turner'," he said sarcastically. He frowned at the large white object in her hand that appeared to be a pearl. "I'm dreadfully frightened by your appearance."

Elizabeth smiled. "You should be." She squeezed the 'pearl', and it exploded into powder. Balthier frantically drew on the last reserves of his once massive store of Mist Energy, casting Reflect at Jack. Elizabeth hadn't taken into account that the mote wouldn't differentiate friend from foe; Holy still hurt if you got hit by it and were not aligned with Darkness. The shield blossomed into life just as a blinding white light shot down from the roof of the cave, swallowing Barbossa and Jack whole. Balthier dragged himself out of the way, his face and arms steaming from the power of the Holy spell contained in the mote. Inside the light, there were inhuman shrieks.

When they could see Barbossa again, he crumpled to the ground, sliding from Jack's shoulders. Skin flaked as he tried to move, his very bones burned. Balthier staggered to his feet, tottering toward the chest of Cortes. Will met him half way there, putting an arm around his scrawny shoulders to steady him, and Elizabeth took his other side.

"It's time to end this," Balthier said tiredly.

Jack cocked his pistol at Barbossa, who was not moving, though still "alive". To his great shock, Barbossa suddenly pointed a pistol toward Elizabeth.

"Shoot me now, and I'll still live. None of you can kill me, no matter what you do." The misshapen remains of Barbossa rasped. "On the other hand, if I shoot her, she'll die. If you release the curse now, I'll shoot."

There was the sharp report of a pistol firing. Elizabeth jumped, her mouth falling open in shock, but it was not she who'd been shot.

Barbossa's gruesome body shuddered from the impact of the bullet in where his heart should be, but the jaws cracked open, a horrible emulation of a laugh spilling out.

"Jack, ten years you carry that pistol, and now you waste your shot?" he asked.

"I didn't waste it." Jack said, looking toward the chest.

Will stood above the chest, his hand dripping blood. The gold fell into the chest with a final sounding ring.

Barbossa's body seized up, before terrible tremors wracked it. Blood ran from a thousand wounds, staining the water and rock red.

"Ah…" Barbossa sighed, blood staining his teeth. "Somewhere amid the flame, I feel… so cold…"

His head rolled back, and his eyes gazed sightless at the ceiling.

* * *

Balthier sat quietly at the table in Tortuga, watching Jack and Gibbs pour over maps delineating the locations of various treasures. Before him was a plate of food, scrupulously finished, and to his right, a mug of rum to wash it all down. To his left, Giselle clung to his arm, giggling. It was just like the old days, and he had everything he could possibly want. His clothing had been somewhat repaired, he had money, he had food and drink, and he had _women_. He had almost every woman in Tortuga wrapped around his thumb. But something still seemed wrong.

_Fran_. Yes, that was who he was missing. Balthier had women, yes, but he did not have _his_ woman. She would most likely be his _only_ partner, for certainly she would outlive him. How long had he been gone now? Fran must be worried _sick_. He began to ponder how he got to Jack's world in the first place.

The nethicite. It always seemed to come back to him and nethicite. It was a material that drew power to it. Some how, it had interacted with the Gate Crystal to send him completely across worlds. If he ever figured out the puzzle to crossing the gap between worlds, he would have to warn Larsa about giving away nethicite as gifts to sweethearts.

Balthier turned a Teleportation Stone in his hands meditatively. Power hummed under its surface. The closest thing to nethicite he'd encountered in this world was the cursed coins of Cortes. They were like nethicite that ate the very energy supporting life. As much as he hated to think it, it seemed that it was the only way home. He'd have to take a medallion.

Was it worth being cursed for eternity just to go home? The fare was awfully pricy. He'd made friends here, and he'd certainly miss them if he left. But this place wasn't home. Ivalice, and the entire sky above it, was home. He didn't belong here, chained to the ground and the sea. With a twisted smile, he realized that Fran might not outlive him after all. It might be the other way around.

"I have to go back." he murmured. Jack looked up.

"What?" he asked. "You say something?"

"I said I have to go back. To Ivalice." Balthier spoke louder. Jack shrugged.

"You can't do anything unless you've figured a way, man." the pirate replied, but seeing Balthier's flat look, his shoulders slumped. "You have, haven't you. What's on your mind?"

"I need to go to Isla de Muerta." Balthier said. Gibbs stared at him.

"You're out of your mind!" he gasped. "Who would _want_ to go back there and brave the passage?"

"I would!" Jack said. "I made Bal a promise, that if he helped out with Barbossa, I'd do whatever I could to help him get home. And if that involves sailing back to Isla de Muerta, I'll do it. I'm a man of my word, after all." Then he turned to Balthier, and whispered in his ear: "Why Isla de Muerta, mate?"

Balthier rubbed his thumb over a glowing crack in the teleportation stone. "The closest way to simulate the circumstances that brought me here is probably going to involve taking a medallion, which would represent the nethicite in my equation, and cutting open a Teleportation Stone, which may release enough power to equal that of a Gate Crystal, for one, short moment." he said.

"I don't get you at all." Jack said. Clearly the subject was beyond him. Gibbs looked equally as stumped. Balthier rolled his eyes, muttering "Sea pirates," under his breathe.

"Basically, all the stuff I said before is going to cause a reaction that will hopefully send me home." he tried again. This time, they understood.

"Well then, you'd best go say your goodbyes." Jack said with a smirk. Balthier raised an eyebrow.

"Goodbyes? To whom?" he asked.

"Elizabeth and Will, of course! They're in Port Royal at the moment. I've been meaning to drop by and see how they are doing. I haven't seen them since our little escapade from the hangman's noose." Jack cried.

"You just want to visit the two lovebirds." Gibbs snorted.

"That too." Jack admitted.

"Port Royal is on the way." Balthier gave in. "I've waited two weeks to get back, another day or two is not going to make a difference."

"Yes!" Jack downed the rest of whatever manner of liquor he was drinking in one gulp, some of it sloshing out the sides and onto his shirt. He eagerly jumped to his feet, bouncing out of the tavern. Balthier also rose, patting Giselle, who seemed disappointed.

"I'm sorry, darling, but I have to go." he said with a dazzling smile. Giselle swooned, before grabbing his face in a pale hand and giving him a kiss.

"Will I see you when you come back?" she asked, fluttering her eyelids at him.

"Perhaps, my dear. I may never come back, you know. The sea calls and all that." Balthier lied.

"Well, don't forget Tortuga calls, too." she crooned as he left.

* * *

Jack climbed up into the rigging, trusting Anamaria to guide them to Port Royal. He knew that unless he assigned some task to the sky pirate, he could always expect to find Balthier in the crows nest.

"Excited to get home to your Fran?" he asked. Balthier helped him into the crows nest, dragging him by the arm.

"Of course. I've made up my mind, and you'll have to try hard to dissuade me once I've done so." he replied.

"You'll be cursed and have no way of lifting it." Jack said seriously. Balthier lowered his eyes.

"I know. But you know I don't belong here, Jack. I'm not meant to be on the sea forever, like you, I'm meant to be up _there_." he waved to the sky above, cloudless and blue. "It's an entirely different place up there, and once you've tasted the sky, you can't go back. I feel like an eagle with clipped wings. I want to _fly_."

Jack leaned against the edge of the crows nest. "Just be careful you don't fall, mate. It's a long way down."

"It has always been a long way down." Balthier replied, looking to the horizon. He could barely tell the difference between sea and sky, until the dark strip of land where Port Royal lie darkened the line. They docked just outside the port, out of view of the fortress.

"We'll have to be very careful, men— and women, pardon, Anamaria— we are all wanted men and women here."

"How about just you and Balthier go ashore? We'll keep an eye on the ship for you." Marty said. Jack gave him a look.

"We're not like Barbossa and his lot, Jack," Anamaria said comfortingly. "We won't leave you."

"Very well, Balthy and I will go ashore ourselves." Jack sighed. Balthier didn't object this time, having given up on correcting him every time, but merely rolled his eyes.

They waited until nightfall, when they could use the shadows to hide, before they entered the town. Balthier followed Jack as they darted from building to building, careful to avoid being spotted by the occasional constable. Finally, they came to a building where a sign bearing outline of an anvil hung in the breeze.

"Brown's Smithy?" Balthier raised an eyebrow. The lights were on inside, and a hammer could be heard pounding on metal. Jack peered inside through a crack in the shutters.

"It's Will. That horrid man Brown isn't in. And…" he angled his head to get a better view. "I think that's Elizabeth talking to him." A feminine laugh could be heard over the clanging hammer.

"I'm certain Will doesn't laugh like that." Balthier snorted.

Jack, now confident, burst inside. Will jumped, raising his hammer in a fighting position, and Elizabeth grabbed one of the many swords laying about the smithy.

"Jack!" Will dropped the hammer and embraced the pirate warmly. "And Balthier!" he cried. Balthier waved away his enthusiastic welcome. "It seems the royal navy has not caught up to you two yet. What are you doing here?"

Balthier cut in before Jack could say something ridiculous. "Jack wanted to visit you, under the pretext of giving me a chance to say farewell." he said. Jack pouted, the expression humorous on the face of a grown man.

"Farewell?" Elizabeth inquired.

"I found a way back home, I think, and I'm taking it."

"Oh…" Will took off his blacksmith's apron, hanging it on a peg on the wall, and dusting his hands off. "I suppose this is goodbye, then." Will shook his hand. "I'm glad I knew you." Balthier smiled, nodding.

"And I, you." he replied. Elizabeth hugged him, burying her face into his vest.

"I've never touched you when you were alive." she whispered into his chest. "You're quite warm."

Balthier gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Ah, well, that's good, isn't it? You should let go, I think Will is jealous." He peeled her off.

"Enjoy it, Elizabeth, he's going to re-curse and blow hisself up to get home." Jack warned.

"Are you serious?" Elizabeth shrieked. Balthier flinched.

"About cursing myself? Yes. Blowing myself up? No! Don't trust Jack, he doesn't understand the concept!" he explained.

"Why would you want to curse yourself?" Will asked curiously. Balthier treated him to a knowing smile.

"If the only way to be with Elizabeth was to curse yourself, would you do it?" he answered the question with a question of his own.

"Of course." Will said without hesitation.

"You see my point, then." Balthier took a deep breath. "I'm not too good about goodbyes. No one seems to like me going. I think it's time to leave, Jack."

Jack paused from where he was picking through swords. "Very well," he followed the sky pirate out. "I'll be right back!" he gave Will and Elizabeth a cheery wave.

* * *

They stood before the chest of Cortes together, just as they had what seemed like years ago, though it had only been a week. Balthier was clearly nervous, turning the Teleportation Stone over and over in his hands. If this went wrong, he could very well lose his only way home. He only had one Teleportation Stone left. Jack watched him warily.

"You sure about this, mate? I didn't understand a word when you explained it to me, but it still sounds like you're going to blow yourself up." Jack said, running his fingers through the coins. Balthier removed the one that had belonged to Will. It was easy to pick out, as there was still a golden chain fixed to it. He tied it around his own neck, and braced himself against a feeling akin to icy water dumping over his head that signified the settling of the curse.

"At least I won't die if I blow myself up now, will I?" he said lightly.

"How can you say that so happily, man? You're insane!" Jack shouted.

"Insane like my father." Balthier said absently. "The spell is active now. It really is like nethicite… how did I not notice?"

He drew Danjuro, resting it on top of the Teleportation Stone. "Well… see you later." Jack said awkwardly. Balthier laughed.

"Always the optimist."

He sliced through the stone. There was a great rushing noise, Mist condensing into visible form around him, and a blinding green flash.

Jack threw his arms up over his face, shielding his eyes from the glare. When he lowered them, Balthier was gone.

"I hope he's not vaporized himself." Jack muttered as he left the cave. The promise of adventure beckoned.

* * *

Balthier rematerialized in Rabanastre, tumbling out of thin air and landing straight on his back and cracking his head against the tiles next to the Gate Crystal. He rolled over, groaning and cradling his skull. The noon sun shone high above, and the air was hot.

"Just like the Caribbean, only so much drier." Balthier mumbled, standing and dusting himself off.

"_Balthier!_" a squealing blur of pink, brown, and yellow slammed into him, and Balthier crashed to the ground for the second time that day. The blur turned out to be a Hume girl. In fact, it was Penelo.

"You're back!" she cried. "You've been gone for almost a month! Vaan, look! Balthier is back!"

"Cut that out, you're making a scene!" Balthier squirmed, trying to wriggle out of her grip. People were stopping to stare. He could hear them whispering; _Did she call that man Balthier? _The_ Balthier?_

Vaan pushed through the crowd. "It really is you!" he shouted, dog piling on top. Balthier's breath whooshed out from the added weight.

"Vaan!" he gasped, trying to push the boy (not really boy, now more like young man) off. "Vaan! You're killing me!" Oh, the irony.

"Sorry." Vaan clambered to his feet, helping Penelo off Balthier's stomach. She immediately latched onto him again.

"I'm so, so, so, so sorry!" she wailed, sobbing into his chromed leather vest. "It's entirely my fault! I'll never wear that cursed thing again! I'll send it back to Larsa, I don't want it anymore!"

"For the gods' sakes! Pull yourself together, girl!" Balthier snapped. "I'm fine!"

"You were disintegrated for a month!" Vaan shouted. "How can you be fine?"

"It wasn't disintegrated." Balthier said over Penelo's babbling. "More like teleported. I think that the nethicite interacted with the Gate Crystal and sent me to a different world. It's crazy, I know." Vaan looked at him with a worried gaze.

"Are you okay? You hit your head on the floor pretty hard…" he trailed off.

"Forget it!" Balthier threw his arms up in frustration. "Where's Fran? She'll put up with my insanity, I'm sure."

"I am here, Balthier." The sweet music of Fran's voice fell upon his ears.

"Fran!" he had to resist bounding over to her and holding her to him. He followed her into the Aerodrome, where she slipped into the shadows, and was unprepared when her long, cinnamon arms wrapped themselves around his back, pulling him into a back breaking, bone crushing embrace.

"I was frightened that you had left me. I am sorry." she said fiercely, drinking in his scent. Hume sweat, steel, gun smoke and leather. Though there was now an undercurrent of some other things. Sea salt, ocean spray. And death.

"You have much explaining to do, Balthier," she whispered, "But I think now is not the time."

"I do have much explaining to do, but _after_ a shower and change of clothes, hmm? Is my baby here?" he asked.

Vaan, still listening in, frowned. "You have a baby?"

"The _Strahl_, dummy!" Penelo slapped him upside the head. "Honestly, Vaan, you can be so thick sometimes."

"Sorry." Vaan made to follow Balthier and Fran into hangar, but Balthier stopped him from coming any farther.

"Unless you think that me showering is very interesting, I suggest that you hang out somewhere else for now." he said, shooing the pair away before following Fran into the Strahl. She immediately sat him down at the small table in the onboard kitchen.

"And now, you shall explain." she commanded. And he did.

* * *

A few hours later, Balthier lay on his bunk with his head in Fran's lap as she combed her fingers through his wet hair.

"Your skin is warm." She observed, stroking her fingers down the back of his neck.

"Yours is still warmer." he purred. "It seems that immersing myself in hot water heats me up like a rice bag, hmm?"

"Do not think I shall share your bed unless you warm yourself before I arrive. It will be like sleeping in the snows of the Paramina Rift." Fran warned, clasping the sides of his face and running her fingers along the curves of his throat, resting them just above the collar of his white shirt.

"If you insist, my dear." Balthier answered, closing his eyes and relaxing. Fran understood he could not truly sleep, but apparently that didn't stop him from using her lap as a pillow. He'd changed out of his ruined clothes into a clean shirt and a new pair of skin-tight leather pants, and exchanged his beaten up gold and green vest for a different one, still embroidered in gold, but with a backdrop of peacock blue.

"I hear of an immense treasure being excavated in the Zertinan Caverns, but a fell creature guards the cache." Fran said suddenly. Balthier opened his eyes again, tilting his head back to look into her eyes.

"A fell creature? Must be that Esper, Adrammelech. We never did go through and collect that one, did we?" he asked lazily, rolling out of the bunk and stretching. "Are you game?" Fran smiled as he helped her to her feet.

"Always."

"Then let us fly." he swept into the cockpit.

The _Strahl_ rose gracefully from the hangar, Glossair rings whirring, before shooting toward the Ozmone Plains.

The skies had called her child home, and he had answered.

* * *

Don't forget to check back for the preview chapter!

Thanks for reading!


	8. Sequel Preview

Here is the preview of chapter one for the sequel to _When Pirate and Pirate Meet._ The actual story will be published later, and I will write another author's note to notify those subscribed that the sequel is out.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XII or Pirates of the Caribbean.

* * *

Balthier dreamed; an occurrence odd in itself. Being undead, he had no need for sleep, but he could relax into a state near slumber. He had not dreamed for several months now.

He lay in the cockpit of his ship, the _Strahl_, slumped over the control panel. Fran stood next to him, but did not disturb him, not even to move him to his bunk, for fear that she might draw him from his welcome respite from the torment of day to day living.

Only in his sleep did Balthier look vulnerable.

* * *

They were silent as they were marched to the gallows. Some cried, some shouted wordlessly, but it was all the same in the end. The pile of boots in the courtyard grew; a child's buckled shoes were thrown onto the stack.

Then he could hear them, the souls of the dead, saying words that whispered on the cold wind that stung his face.

_Yo ho… thieves and beggars… never shall we die…_

* * *

The dream faded into darkness, but he still didn't wake. The darkness transformed into a dungeon, and Balthier was locked inside.

_Ffamran Mied Bunansa Archades… _a voice sighed to him in from the depths of the shadows. In his dreamscape, Balthier whipped around to face the barren confines of his prison.

"Who calls me by that name?" he cried into the emptiness.

_Yo ho… thieves and beggars… never shall we die…_

Balthier shook his head, backing into a corner, hand whipping up to grab a gun that was not there.

"Who's there?" he called again wildly, eyes darting around the cell.

_I have need of your services._

A shadowed figure stood on the other side of the door, looking in at him. Balthier watched it warily.

"Who are you? How do you know that name?"

_Before me, all your pretexts are laid bare, Ffamran Mied Bunansa Archades…_

He realized that he was a skeleton, but no moonlight shone upon his skin. Balthier flung himself at the bars, rattling them, his hand shooting out to grasp at the shadow's throat. His groping fingers met thin air.

_Look at what you have become and are becoming, Ffamran. You are a trapped creature, caged in your own flesh. The Mist does not react favorably to your… condition. _The shadow warped, became a reflection of himself.

His flesh covered face leered back at him, baring sharpened teeth that no hume should have. His own familiar golden eyes flashed once, turning a bestial shade of yellow with slit pupils, before dampening back to their normal hue. The reflection Balthier smirked again, showing off the sharp teeth that remained the same, before vanishing.

Balthier shrank back from the bars, clutching his head in his hands.

"I'm becoming a monster," he whispered in horror.

_Yo ho… thieves and beggars… never shall we die…_

"Shut up!" Balthier screamed at nobody. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

_I have need of your services. _The shadow was back at the door.

Balthier sobbed.

_Some are dead and some are alive… others sail on the sea…_ a haunting voice drifted through the dungeon.

"What do you want?" he moaned, looking up at the shadow.

…_With keys to the cage, and the devil to pay… _The voice of Elizabeth Swann.

"Why do you torment me from voices in my past?" Balthier staggered to his feet, clutching the bars of his prison.

_I have need of your services_.

"Enough. I will hear your terms."

_Jack Sparrow is dead, and with him, _my_ hopes of returning home. You know of whom I speak._

"Jack… dead?" Balthier could not believe what he heard.

_I need you to guide them to him. I fear I have been betrayed._

"I don't even know where he is."

_You will find out._

"What is in it for me?"

_Always you think that. Set me free, let _me_ go home, and I shall set you free in turn._ The shadow reached out and touched his heart.

With a gasp, he realized that it beat strong under the shadow's grip.

"You'll lift the curse if I return to Jack's world and complete your task? Will I return once I am done?"

_Yes. Prepare yourself, Ffamran Mied Bunansa Archades… we will meet again tomorrow. Don't think you will be going alone this time._ The dungeon was lit with blinding white light, and the shadow faded. Elizabeth's voice still sang sweetly.

_Yo ho… haul together, hoist the colors high… _

_Heave ho… thieves and beggar… never shall we die…_

* * *

Keep in mind this is a preview. For the whole chapter… you'll have to read the story… muah hah hah…


	9. Sequel Alert

This is just an author's note saying that the sequel to _When Pirate and Pirate Meet_ has been published.

Please visit my profile page to view, because my links don't work...

Thank you, and enjoy!


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